The surprising connection between CIA spies and professional gamblers

 

Espionage and gambling aren't so different, according to a real CIA operative

There’s a reason why seasoned gamblers and seasoned spies walk into a room the same way—like they already know something you don’t. They’ve both learned to live on instinct, calculation, and the thrill of risk. And the deeper you look, the more you realize: the world of espionage and the world of high-stakes gambling are playing the same game—just with different stakes.

     Let’s put this into focus. Take Phil Ivey, often called the greatest poker player of all time. Calm under pressure, unreadable, a master of deception. He doesn’t just play the cards—he plays people. Now match him up with Tony Mendez, the real-life CIA officer behind the daring "Canadian Caper" rescue during the Iran hostage crisis. He was the guy who bluffed the Iranian regime using a fake Hollywood film. Ivey and Mendez? Two sides of the same coin.

     In 1980, Mendez orchestrated the rescue of six American diplomats hiding in Tehran. His plan? Get them out by posing as a Canadian film crew scouting locations for a sci-fi movie called Argo. It was complete fiction. But Mendez went all in—fake scripts, posters, business cards, even a real Hollywood office to back it up. He didn’t just bluff a table of gamblers. He bluffed the entire Iranian regime.

     That level of deception, precision, and psychological warfare? That’s not just spy craft—it’s the ultimate high-stakes hustle. Like Ivey watching a player twitch before calling a bluff, Mendez knew exactly when to push, when to pause, and when to walk away with the win. One wrong read, one shaky moment, and it could’ve ended in disaster. If you want to see just how he pulled it off, read Tony Mendez, the CIA Hero Behind the Movie ARGO.

     Both Ivey and Mendez live by their wits. They both know the power of a good bluff. And neither one breaks a sweat when the room gets hot.

     That same energy pulses through the spy thriller SHADOW WAR, where CIA spymaster Corey Pearson operates with the same mindset as a professional gambler. In one scene, Pearson is deep inside the Atlantis Casino in the Bahamas—bugging rooms, reading body language, working angles like a blackjack pro counting cards. He doesn't just react—he anticipates. Just like Ivey watching a player's twitch before the flop, Corey picks up subtle cues that tell him exactly when to push and when to fold.

     And then there’s the bluff.

     Gamblers bluff to win pots. Spies bluff to win intelligence wars.

     Ivey once won millions not just by the strength of his hand, but by making others believe he had them beat. Mendez got Americans out of Tehran by convincing the Iranian government they were Canadian filmmakers scouting locations. One used chips. The other used fake passports. Same playbook.

     Corey Pearson lives by that same code. Whether he’s slipping into a new alias or feeding false intel to a foreign agent, deception is his weapon of choice. In SHADOW WAR, there’s this slick maneuver where Pearson plants listening devices in a target’s hotel room while Ana, his partner, distracts the guy downstairs with flirtation and conversation. Classic misdirection. Just like poker—watch the hands, not the cards.

     Observation is another shared skill. Gamblers study “tells”—tiny signals that give away a bluff. Spies read the room for danger, opportunity, or signs they’re being watched. Phil Ivey is famous for noticing the tiniest edge flaws on cards. Tony Mendez was famous for spotting small behavior shifts that hinted at danger. Pearson? He’s got both eyes wide open at all times. In SHADOW WAR, he walks through the Atlantis casino like a bloodhound, clocking who’s tailing him, who’s a tourist, and who’s just a little too quiet.

     And let’s be honest—there’s a rush to all this. Gambling and spying are addictive because the stakes are massive, and the margins for error are razor thin. That cocktail of adrenaline, danger, and potential payoff? That’s the drug. It keeps gamblers coming back to the table. And it keeps spies in the game long after their nerves should have given out.

     But here’s a friendly warning: just because you read about Corey Pearson or watched a Bond movie doesn’t mean you should roll up to your local poker night like a spook on a mission. You’re not bluffing international arms dealers—you're playing for chips and maybe a few drinks. So leave the covert ops to the pros, and don’t get kicked out of the casino for pretending you’re Langley’s finest.

     So whether you're watching someone lay down a perfect bluff at the poker table, or turning the pages of SHADOW WAR as Corey Pearson outsmarts foreign agents to protect American interests, remember this:

     In both poker and espionage, it’s not just what you know — it’s what you can make others believe.

     But for spies, the stakes aren’t chips. They’re lives, secrets, and the safety of a nation.

     That’s the real game. And getting it right means keeping America one step ahead.

 

Robert Morton is a member of the Association of Former Intelligence Officers (AFIO) and writes about the U.S. Intelligence Community (IC). He also writes the Corey Pearson- CIA Spymaster Series, which blends his knowledge of real-life intelligence operations with gripping fictional storytelling. His work offers readers an insider’s glimpse into the world of espionage, inspired by the complexities and high-stakes realities of the intelligence community.