The opening chapter of B.W. Leavitt’s novel How to Train a Spy, makes the reader instantly enter into the world of secret actions, undercover missions and foreign affairs. However, the thing is that it is not only the intensity of the mission that makes this book stand out of the usual spy thrillers, it is everything that surrounds it. What is even more profound about the story is the emotional, psychological and moral side of the action of Brian Lewis, a seemingly unlikely protagonist who is brought into a secretive world far beyond the confines of his normal existence.
Brian Lewis is not introduced as someone who has been an experienced operative. He is a prison guard, who lives a normal life with his wife Sue Yong, and their children. His former military life appears to be way behind him till a night when two federal agents turn up at his place of work unannounced and lead him to a hidden underground base. This is where the life of Brian is split into two worlds: the one he is leaving behind and the classified mission he is going to. Although the novel provides an exhilarating action, Brian has a struggle inside him, which leaves him unforgettable in his story.
The RV tour that Brian and his family go on during a month is one of the first peepholes into the emotional heart of the book. These are very sweet and sad moments that encourage the readers to remember that there is a human being behind every covert operative with relationships, fears, and responsibilities. The task is tough, yet the decision not to leave his family can be the most difficult that Brian will ever have to make.
Brian is also challenged physically and psychologically during his long training. He picks up languages, survival skills, sea navigation, and art of deceiving and assuming new identities that are not his. Every new ability is a further step into a world where complete emotional detachment is needed, but Brian tends to be preoccupied with his family.
More than the mission, there is something even better: uncertainty. When Brian is dispatched overseas on a Russian passport, he has to play that role to the letter. Frequently, it seems that he is bearing the brunt of being entirely isolated in unfriendly areas. His relationship with the undercover Iranian agent Jasmine, who plays his wife, introduces another emotional dimension to it. They have their teamwork founded on the necessity, trust and the understanding that a single slip can cost both of them their lives. In the most stressful situations, however, Brian does not lose loyalty to his real family, which is his emotional backbone.
The scene of escape, which is among the most tense ones in the novel, perfectly describes what is beneath the facade of the mission. The death of Brian, which was a fake death and was planned to be very real, demonstrates that the world of spies is so much involved with the distinction between reality and illusion. The fact that he is witnessing his own demise is something that helps Brian to realize that his life of two personalities is a reality, and in order to survive he is forced to forget about his existence temporarily. It is not merely a strategic trickery; it is a sacrifice that has an enduring emotional impact.
Brian is debriefed and assessed on his return to the United States in a well-coordinated extraction. Though the mission is done, it is evident in the novel that nothing can just go back to normal. Although director Powel must recognize that Brian did an outstanding job, the emotional and psychological burden of his experience remains. Its last scene with a hint of indication that Brian might be sucked into another operation reminds us of the fact that the work of a spy does not actually stop as soon as the job is done. His previous life is never to be recovered completely. The underworld of spying trails him and it will change his life in the future in manners that are beyond his control.