World: A day with a CIA-trained operative reveals modern espionage training

Last month in Colorado Springs, a journalist spent a day with a former CIA officer and his wife, authors of Shadow Cell, to test what passes for modern espionage training. The book chronicles seven years at the sharp edge of intelligence work and, after years of legal wrangling over its publication rights, arrives on shelves this month. The journalist’s assignment was to observe and recount a replica of the couple’s fieldwork, including a simulated first contact between a secret operative and a target known only through intelligence briefs. The central exercise centers on a “bump”—the moment a spy makes initial contact with a target—an encounter the trainee must manage with precision, speed, and nerve. In the scenario, the target is Fred Kelly, described by intelligence as a man in his 40s, about six feet tall, whose potential access to sensitive information makes him a priority for assessment. Two minutes are allotted to reach engagement with the target, and the trainee is coached to remain calm, focused, and breathing through the tension of the moment.

The journalist joined the training in a private space beneath a downtown hotel, where the lead instructor, a former CIA officer known as Andrew Bustamante, and his partner Jihi Bustamante walk the student through a day of controlled risk. The goal is not glamorous gunplay or car chases but the steady craft of deception that underpins modern intelligence work. The tutor emphasizes that the “black space” of the mind—heightened awareness, rapid pattern recognition, and an ability to anticipate the next move—defines the highest level of readiness in today’s espionage environment. The trainee learns to balance the need to gather information with the imperative to protect a cover story, a process the couple describe as essential to staying alive in the field. The mentors stress a blunt truth: many of the most consequential operations rely on ordinary-looking tools and routines, not on extraordinary gimmicks. The trainee is warned that the rules can bend—sometimes to gain an advantage—but following direction remains critical to success and safety.

As part of the exercise, the trainee adopts a cover identity and a narrative that could withstand questioning in the field. The name chosen for the day is Frank Boot, a civilian researcher in Colorado Springs studying local birdlife. The purpose is to demonstrate the “sticks and bricks” approach: operational work is often conducted with everyday items and routines that avoid drawing attention. The pair explain that a successful undercover operator must remember the lies they tell and avoid any inconsistencies that could give away the ruse. The trainee is introduced to a series of signals that mark active operation without tipping off adversaries. One example is a blue ribbon tied to a tree—a signal that an asset has gone live and that the operation is underway. Another involves a more tactile cue from a Middle Eastern operation, where salted water served to the wrong person triggered a rapid exit and a successful escape. The lesson: signals can take many forms, but they must be binary and recognizable only to the intended recipient.

A key component of the day is meeting a friendly asset, code-named Starbuck, at a precise time and place to extract information about the target. The bookstore serves as the setting for this contact, where the asset and the trainee use codewords—valley to confirm contact and another word to acknowledge identity. The asset’s identity remains intentionally opaque to protect both parties; the trainee’s job is to elicit useful intelligence while minimizing risk of exposure. The encounter lasts six minutes, just within the recommended seven-minute window, and the trainee uses a carefully crafted approach to sustain a natural conversation while extracting details about the target. In the narrative, the target is identified as Collins, who works in the space industry and may be passing along trade secrets related to a new propulsion technology named Prometheus. The trainee also leaves behind a small piece of double-sided tape at the bookstore to signal success to the operation’s handlers.

The next phase centers on a dead drop—a covert handoff of information or material between operatives. The trainee retrieves a sealed container containing a coded message: a string of letters that points to a specific address. Decoding with the Playfair cipher, a technique dating back to the 19th century, the numbers and letters reveal an actual meet location: 08 South Nevada Avenue. The Playfair cipher, chosen for its simplicity and reliability under field conditions, requires decrypting letter pairs using a shared key grid. The trainee works through the cipher carefully, resisting the urge to write down sensitive information and instead committing only the essential details to memory as instructed by the instructors.

The final phase brings the action into a hotel lobby, where the mission hinges on the trainer’s ability to maintain cover while drawing out actionable intelligence. The trainee approaches the target from within his line of sight, delivering a rehearsed line about being exhausted from hiking and seeking a moment of rest. The interaction is designed to elicit information about the target’s plans while avoiding over-sharing that could reveal the undercover status. The mentors emphasize the importance of timing: too brief a conversation yields little detail; too long a dialogue risks arousing suspicion. The trainee succeeds in gathering information about the target’s travel plans and potential movements yet balks at an overly friendly invitation to meet again—a misstep that nearly jeopardizes the operation. The mentors remind him that emotional stress can cloud judgment and that the best operational decisions rely on steady, methodical thinking rather than impulsive moves.

In the closing moments, the trainee completes the day with a sense of accomplishment and a clearer understanding of what it means to operate under cover. Andy and Jihi Bustamante reflect on the experience as a transformative exercise that can alter one’s perception of security, risk, and national power. They suggest that such training can change how a person views their own family, their daily routines, and the broader state of governance and oversight in a modern world where espionage remains both a tool and a threat. When asked whether the trainee might join the CIA or perhaps another agency, the pair offer a playful assessment of his demeanor and appearance, hinting at a future in intelligence work while acknowledging that the reality of modern espionage is far from the cinematic image often depicted in films. The day ends with a provisional sense that the training has moved the participant from a conventional civilian mindset toward a more operational perspective, underscoring a fundamental premise of Shadow Cell: the work of spies in the 21st century is as much about discipline, deception, and psychological resilience as it is about gadgets or glamour.