The sun is setting over Baghdad as I sit across from Marcus, whose name I’ve changed for obvious reasons. We’re both nursing lukewarm cups of sweet chai tea in a small, private room of a hotel that has seen better days. The power cuts out briefly before the backup generator kicks in, a common occurrence in this part of the world. Marcus doesn’t flinch—he’s spent years cultivating the ability to remain utterly unfazed by the unexpected.

“You get used to it,” he says with a slight smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “The unpredictable becomes predictable in its own way.”

Marcus is an old college friend who took a very different path than I did after graduation. While I pursued journalism, he disappeared into what he would only describe as “government work” for many years. It wasn’t until after he left the Agency that he began sharing fragments of his experiences with me over late-night whiskeys. His stories—carefully sanitized of anything classified—ignited my curiosity about the lives of these men and women who serve their country from the shadows.

When I mentioned my fascination, Marcus offered to introduce me to other former officers willing to talk. “Everyone has stories they can tell,” he said, “and some they can’t.” What follows is a glimpse into what is perhaps one of the most misunderstood and mythologized career paths in government service: working as an operations officer for the Central Intelligence Agency.

I should note that while my sources have been generous with their time and insights, they’ve been scrupulous about avoiding classified information. Any operational details included here have either been previously disclosed in official publications or altered to protect sources and methods. Some readers might wonder about my own background and how I gained such access. Let’s just say I’ve always had a knack for getting people to talk.

The Allure of the Unknown

What draws someone to a career where they can rarely discuss their achievements, where their greatest successes remain classified for decades, and where danger can lurk around any corner? For most of the officers I’ve known, it’s a complex mixture of patriotism, intellectual curiosity, and a craving for experiences far removed from the mundane rhythms of conventional life.

“I was working in finance,” Sarah tells me over coffee in a Washington DC café, years after her retirement from the Agency. “Making good money, living comfortably, and bored out of my mind. I wanted something that mattered, something where I didn’t know what each day would bring.”

Sarah spent 24 years with the CIA, operating in three continents and speaking four languages fluently. The sparkle in her eye when she talks about her former life—careful to never cross the line into revealing classified information—speaks volumes about the satisfaction she found in her unconventional career choice.

“There’s nothing quite like the feeling of recruiting your first asset,” she says, referring to the process of convincing someone with access to valuable information to share it with the United States. “You’re building a relationship, sometimes over months or years. There’s strategy involved, psychology, patience—and when it works, when you’ve established that trust and they make the decision to work with you, it’s indescribable.”

The Birth of America’s Premier Intelligence Service

To understand what makes a career in the CIA so distinctive, it helps to know something about how the organization came to be. The CIA was born from the ashes of World War II, established by the National Security Act of 1947 under President Harry Truman. Its predecessor, the Office of Strategic Services (OSS), had demonstrated the value of centralized intelligence during the war, but was disbanded shortly after the Japanese surrender in 1945.

As Cold War tensions mounted, American policymakers recognized the need for a permanent intelligence organization. The CIA was tasked with coordinating intelligence activities and correlating, evaluating, and disseminating intelligence that impacts national security. It was also given the mandate to perform “other functions and duties” related to intelligence—deliberately vague language that would eventually encompass everything from drone strikes to mind control experiments.

Michael, a CIA historian who spent his career inside the organization before becoming one of its official chroniclers, explains that the Agency has always reflected the national security concerns of its era.

“During the Cold War, everything was about the Soviet Union and their satellites,” he explains. “After 9/11, the focus shifted dramatically to counterterrorism. Now we’re seeing another evolution with the rise of China and the return of great power competition. The mission adapts, but the core remains the same: get the information policymakers need.”

Training for the Shadows

So what does it take to become a CIA operations officer? The selection process is notoriously rigorous. Background checks that dive deep into your past, psychological evaluations, polygraphs, and a battery of tests designed to assess everything from language aptitude to stress tolerance.

“The washout rate is high,” admits Robert, who worked as an instructor at “the Farm”—the colloquial name for the CIA’s training facility. “And that’s by design. Better to identify someone who can’t handle the pressure in training than when they’re operating in a hostile environment overseas.”

Training for clandestine service is unlike any other professional development program. Beyond the expected curriculum covering tradecraft techniques like surveillance detection and secure communications, officers learn the art of recruiting and handling assets, as well as how to operate in environments ranging from sophisticated capitals to conflict zones.

“We had this exercise,” recalls Thomas, who joined the Agency in the late 1990s. “You’re dropped in an unfamiliar town with a little cash, no ID, and a series of tasks to accomplish. You need to establish cover, make contacts, get certain pieces of information—all while instructors are trying to catch you making mistakes. It’s exhausting and exhilarating at the same time.”

The training emphasizes adaptability and creative problem-solving. You might need to change plans on a moment’s notice, work around unexpected obstacles, or make critical decisions with incomplete information and no time to consult headquarters.

“They’re looking for people who can think on their feet and adjust when things go sideways,” Thomas adds. “Because in the field, things always go sideways.”

Living Under Cover

Perhaps the most dramatic aspect of CIA work is living under cover—representing yourself as something you’re not in order to carry out intelligence operations. For many officers, this means operating under “official cover,” posing as diplomats or other government employees while stationed abroad. Others work under “non-official cover” (NOCs), claiming to be businesspeople, academics, or other professionals with no apparent connection to the U.S. government.

“Living a cover identity is harder than most people realize,” says Jennifer, who spent eight years as a NOC in East Asia. “It’s not just about memorizing a backstory. You have to inhabit that identity completely. Your reactions need to be consistent with who you’re pretending to be. You develop a kind of dual consciousness.”

Jennifer describes building her cover identity like method acting. She studied her fictional profession in depth, developed genuine expertise in it, and cultivated relationships within that field—all while conducting intelligence operations on the side.

“The hardest part was the compartmentalization,” she admits. “You form real friendships, but there’s always this barrier, this part of yourself you can never share. It takes a psychological toll over time.”

Not everyone is cut out for this kind of life. Some officers request transfers to headquarters after finding the strain of constant deception too taxing. Others thrive on it, developing elaborate covers that stand up to even the most determined counterintelligence efforts.

The Reality of Field Operations

Hollywood has done much to shape public perceptions of CIA work, mostly in ways that bear little resemblance to reality. While intelligence officers occasionally find themselves in dangerous situations, the day-to-day work involves more patience and careful planning than high-speed chases or shootouts.

“My most successful operation took two years of preparation,” says David, who worked primarily in the Middle East. “Months of identifying the right target, learning their routines, understanding their motivations and vulnerabilities. Then more months of careful approaches, building rapport, establishing trust. The actual recruitment took all of fifteen minutes once everything was in place.”

This painstaking preparation is crucial because the stakes are incredibly high. A blown operation can mean the loss of valuable intelligence sources, diplomatic incidents, or even risk to human life.

“People don’t realize how much of the job is risk management,” explains Karen, who operated in several African countries. “For every meeting with an asset, we’re thinking about multiple layers of security. Is this location secure? Do we have surveillance detection in place? What’s our contingency plan if something goes wrong? The goal is to make calculated risks, not reckless ones.”

Still, even with the best preparation, intelligence work involves inherent dangers that can’t be eliminated entirely.

Close Calls and Narrow Escapes

While many CIA officers go their entire careers without experiencing a true emergency, close calls do happen. The officers willing to share their experiences often describe these moments as clarifying—instances where training took over and revealed what they were truly capable of.

“I was meeting an asset in Damascus,” recalls Thomas. “Everything was going according to plan until it wasn’t. Someone had tipped off Syrian intelligence, and they were closing in fast.” His expression grows distant as he recalls the memory. “There’s this moment of perfect clarity when you realize you’re in real danger. All the contingency planning we’d done kicked in automatically. I got out—barely—and more importantly, my asset remained secure.”

Another officer, who asked that I not use even a pseudonym, described being detained at a checkpoint in a Central Asian country where he was operating under diplomatic cover.

“They separated me from my driver and took my phone. Started asking very specific questions that made it clear this wasn’t a random stop.” He pauses, choosing his words carefully. “In that situation, you fall back on your cover story completely. No matter how much pressure they apply, you stick to who you’re supposed to be. I spent 18 hours in ‘administrative detention’ before the Embassy was able to secure my release.”

These stories of danger and escape make for compelling anecdotes, but most officers emphasize that their value comes from the everyday work of building relationships and gathering intelligence—not from Hollywood-style adventures.

The Psychological Aspects of Espionage

Intelligence work takes a unique psychological toll. Officers must maintain constant vigilance in hostile environments, manage relationships with assets who may have complex motivations, and balance the ethical dimensions of their work against national security imperatives.

“You’re constantly engaging in risk calculus,” explains Dr. Emily Chen, a psychologist who has worked with intelligence officers (though she won’t confirm which agency). “Not just physical risk, but moral and ethical risk as well. How far am I willing to go to get this information? What are the potential consequences if I do—or don’t—take a particular action? These decisions accumulate over time and can lead to what we call ‘moral injury’ if not properly processed.”

Many officers describe a kind of hyperawareness that develops during overseas postings and never fully disappears.

“I still sit with my back to the wall in restaurants,” laughs Sarah, fifteen years after retiring. “I still notice when someone walks past my house twice. Some habits are hard to break.”

For those working under non-official cover, the isolation can be particularly challenging. Without the support network of an embassy community, NOCs must find ways to manage stress while maintaining their cover identities.

“You develop coping mechanisms,” says Jennifer. “Some healthy, some less so. The Agency has gotten much better about providing psychological support, but when you’re deep under cover, accessing that support isn’t always straightforward.”

From China with Complexity

China represents one of the CIA’s most challenging operational environments. With sophisticated counterintelligence capabilities and pervasive surveillance technology, conducting traditional espionage operations in China tests the skills of even the most experienced officers.

“Beijing was both the most fascinating and most difficult posting of my career,” says Michael, who served there in the early 2000s. “The level of surveillance is extraordinary. Facial recognition cameras everywhere, AI systems tracking movement patterns, informants in every neighborhood committee. You have to assume you’re being watched all the time and find ways to operate effectively despite that scrutiny.”

The challenges extend beyond technical surveillance. Cultural nuances play a crucial role in recruiting and handling Chinese assets, requiring officers to develop deep understanding of local customs, values, and social structures.

“Working in China taught me patience,” Michael continues. “Relationships develop slowly. Trust takes time to build. But the intelligence we gathered there was some of the most valuable of my career—insights into China’s strategic thinking, technological development, and international ambitions that simply couldn’t be obtained any other way.”

As China’s global influence expands, CIA operations have evolved to track Chinese activities worldwide, from infrastructure investments in Africa to technology transfers in Europe. The great power competition that defined the Cold War has returned in new forms, with intelligence officers on the front lines.

In the Crucible of Iraq

If China represents the intellectual challenge of intelligence work, Iraq during the height of the war exemplifies its physical dangers and moral complexities. After the 2003 invasion, the CIA deployed substantial resources to understand the insurgency, disrupt terrorist networks, and support military operations.

“Iraq was chaos,” remembers Marcus, who served multiple tours there. “The intelligence environment was incredibly dynamic. Sources appeared and disappeared. Alliances shifted constantly. And the stakes couldn’t have been higher—good intelligence saved lives, both American and Iraqi.”

Operating in a war zone required different skills than traditional espionage. Officers worked closely with military units, sometimes accompanying them on operations. They developed networks of informants across sectarian lines, trying to piece together an accurate picture of who was behind the violence ravaging the country.

“The hardest part was distinguishing reliable information from attempts at manipulation,” James continues. “Everyone had an agenda. Tribal leaders would point us toward their rivals, claiming they were insurgents. Former regime elements tried to settle old scores. Sorting through these competing narratives while bombs were going off around us—that was the real challenge.”

Despite the difficulties, many officers describe Iraq as their most meaningful posting, a place where the impact of their work was immediately visible.

“We disrupted bombing networks, prevented attacks, helped target key insurgent leaders,” says another officer who served there. “There was a direct line between the intelligence we gathered and lives saved. That’s something I carry with me.”

African Adventures

While China and the Middle East often dominate headlines, Africa has become an increasingly important focus for CIA operations. From tracking terrorist movements in the Sahel to monitoring Chinese economic influence across the continent, Africa presents unique operational challenges and opportunities.

“Lagos was unlike anywhere else I’ve worked,” says Karen, who spent three years in Nigeria. “The energy of the place is incredible—constant motion, entrepreneurial spirit, complex political dynamics. But operating there required completely different approaches than what worked in Europe or Asia.”

In many African contexts, the formal trappings of diplomacy matter less than personal relationships. Officers learn to navigate complex networks of influence that span government offices, traditional authorities, business circles, and religious institutions.

“I remember meeting with a source near the Niger Delta,” Karen continues. “We had to travel by boat through mangrove swamps, escorted by local guides. When we arrived at the village, I discovered the man I was there to meet was not just a government informant but also a traditional chief. The meeting couldn’t proceed until we’d observed all the proper protocols and ceremonies.”

These experiences highlight the adaptability required of intelligence officers. Standard tradecraft must be adjusted to local conditions, whether that means accommodating different concepts of time and commitment, understanding unique power structures, or operating in environments with limited infrastructure.

“In some ways, Africa offered more freedom of movement than places with more sophisticated surveillance,” notes another officer. “But it presented its own challenges—unpredictable transportation, health risks, complex ethnic politics. You learn to be resourceful in ways you never anticipated.”

The Strange Tales of MK-Ultra

No honest account of CIA history can ignore its more colorful chapters, and few are as legendary within Agency lore as Project MK-Ultra. Launched in the early 1950s and running through the late 1960s, MK-Ultra explored the frontiers of mind control techniques and chemical interrogation methods during a time when the Cold War sparked genuine fears about Soviet advances in these areas.

“The Agency was convinced the Soviets had made breakthroughs in mind control,” explains Michael, the CIA historian who became one of my most forthcoming sources. “MK-Ultra was born from that fear—an attempt to understand psychological manipulation before our adversaries could use it against us.”

The project ventured into territory that certainly raised eyebrows, especially by today’s standards. But what fascinates me most are the stories about the almost unbelievable workplace culture that developed around these experiments.

“The Technical Services Division had this absolutely wild period,” Michael tells me with a barely suppressed grin. “Staff would occasionally spike each other’s coffee with LSD as practical jokes. Imagine walking into a meeting and suddenly the walls start breathing, and you’re thinking ‘Not again, Johnson from accounting got me.'”

One former officer, who asked not to be named but spoke with surprising candor about this era, described parties where chemists would voluntarily test new compounds on themselves. “There was this one Christmas party where half the room was having profound revelations about the nature of reality while the other half was trying to conduct normal conversations. Different times,” he chuckles.

Of course, not all aspects of the program were so lighthearted. Some experiments crossed lines that shouldn’t have been crossed, particularly when they involved unwitting subjects outside the Agency. When MK-Ultra was finally exposed in the 1970s through investigations by the Church Committee, it prompted necessary reforms in oversight.

“The Agency learned important lessons,” Michael acknowledges. “Today’s CIA operates under much more rigorous ethical guidelines and congressional oversight. But those early Cold War years were a unique moment when the rules were being written as they went along.”

During our conversation about MK-Ultra, Michael gives me a strange look when I ask a particularly specific question about a lesser-known aspect of the program. “You seem to know quite a bit about this already,” he observes casually. I change the subject.

Coming Home: Life After the Agency

For many officers, the transition to civilian life proves challenging. After years of living with purpose and adrenaline, ordinary careers can seem mundane. The habits of secrecy are difficult to break, and explaining gaps in one’s resume presents practical problems.

“The hardest question at cocktail parties is still ‘So what do you do?'” laughs Sarah. “Even after retirement, we’re limited in what we can say about our careers. I usually tell people I worked for the State Department and change the subject.”

Some former officers find second careers in security consulting, international business, or academia, where their unique experiences and global perspectives are valued. Others struggle with the adjustment, missing the camaraderie and sense of mission that defined their years with the Agency.

“There’s something addictive about the work,” admits James. “The stakes, the sense of purpose, the feeling that what you’re doing directly impacts national security. It’s hard to find that in the private sector.”

The CIA has improved its retirement transition programs in recent years, helping officers prepare for life after government service. Still, the psychological adjustment can be substantial, particularly for those who spent decades under cover.

“You’re reclaiming your authentic self after years of compartmentalization,” explains Dr. Chen. “It’s a process that takes time and often requires support.”

The Real Rewards of Intelligence Work

Ask any intelligence officer why they chose their unusual career path, and you’ll rarely hear mentions of excitement or adventure—though those certainly exist. Instead, they speak of serving a mission larger than themselves, of contributing to national security in ways few others can.

“There’s immense satisfaction in knowing you’ve gathered intelligence that shapes policy at the highest levels,” says Thomas. “When you see the President making decisions based partly on information you helped collect—that’s when you know the sacrifices were worthwhile.”

For others, the reward comes from the relationships formed within the Agency itself—bonds forged through shared experiences that can’t be fully explained to outsiders.

“The people are extraordinary,” says Karen. “You work alongside individuals with diverse backgrounds, remarkable talents, and unwavering commitment. Those relationships last a lifetime, even if you can never tell others how you met or what you did together.”

And then there are the intangible rewards—the perspective gained from living deeply in other cultures, understanding global events from the inside, and testing personal limits in challenging circumstances.

“I’ve seen aspects of humanity—both inspiring and disturbing—that most people never encounter,” reflects James. “That changes you. It gives you a broader perspective on what matters and what doesn’t.”

Is It Worth It?

For those considering a career in intelligence, the question ultimately comes down to this: Are the sacrifices worth the rewards? The lifestyle isn’t for everyone. It demands flexibility, resilience, comfort with ambiguity, and willingness to subordinate personal recognition to mission accomplishment.

“You’ll miss birthdays and anniversaries,” cautions Sarah. “Your family will never fully understand what you do. There will be times when you question whether the compromises are justified.”

Yet for those with the right temperament and motivations, few careers offer comparable opportunities to directly influence world events while developing extraordinary skills and experiences.

“I wouldn’t trade my years with the Agency for anything,” says Thomas. “The sense of purpose, the intellectual challenges, the remarkable people I worked with—these things can’t be replicated in ordinary careers.”

As our interview concludes, Marcus finishes his tea and glances at his watch. Old habits remain—he’s constantly aware of his surroundings, even years after leaving the field. When I ask if he has any final thoughts for those considering intelligence work, he pauses thoughtfully.

“Know why you’re doing it,” he says finally. “If you’re drawn by Jason Bourne fantasies or power trips, you’ll wash out quickly. But if you genuinely want to serve your country, if you’re curious about the world and comfortable operating in the shadows—there’s no more rewarding path.”

As the Baghdad evening settles around us, I’m struck by the quiet pride these former officers take in careers that will never be fully acknowledged publicly. Their stories remind us that beyond the headlines and Hollywood portrayals, real men and women continue to serve in the shadows, gathering the intelligence that helps navigate our complex and dangerous world.

*Note to readers: This article is based on interviews facilitated through personal connections with former intelligence officers whose identities have been protected through the use of pseudonyms and alteration of identifying details. My relationship with several Agency veterans opened doors that might otherwise have remained closed to journalists. While their experiences reflect genuine aspects of intelligence work, specific operational information remains classified and has been omitted in accordance with security requirements.

Several people have asked how I managed to gain such candid insights from typically reticent former officers. Let’s just say that sometimes the best stories come from knowing which questions not to ask and understanding when to let comfortable silences do the work. As one source told me with a knowing smile after our third meeting, “You’d have made a decent case officer yourself.” I took it as the compliment it was intended to be.*