I feel as though I am being watched every hour of every day.

After taking the first few steps out my New York apartment, the feeling of being watched becomes stronger. I do not know who is watching me. Is it a man or a machine whose eyes I feel boring into my back? This is where the paranoia sets in, but I am used to the feeling now. It was a key factor in my job after all. I had to be constantly aware of my surroundings, subconsciously checking an area to make sure it was clear before I dared to enter.

I have always been an observer, a people watcher. This is how I was recruited in the first place. I am a CIA agent. Actually, I was a CIA agent until a tragic accident occurred during an operation.

I lost my partner; killed in action.

I was interrogated nonstop the days following the incident. The agency accused me of carrying out the execution. I denied having taken part, but they didn’t believe me… Just when I thought the hell I was put through would never end, the agency suddenly decided to give me one chance to prove my innocence. They offered me the chance to find the man I deemed responsible for my partner’s death. My mission was to get a confession and bring him to the agency alive. In return, I would be clear of all charges. I accepted instantly and left on the first plane.

Upon arriving at the designated location, there was no one in sight. It resembled a ghost town from the cartoons of the sixties. Unbeknownst to the pilot and me, it was all a setup… The last thing I remember is the sound of gun fire and a sharp pain in my right shoulder and abdomen. Then everything went dark.

I had heard that some of the higher-ups at the agency considered me a traitor. They wanted me dead and they got their wish.

Or so they believed.

My name is Madeline Simmons and this is my story.