Undercover at Boeing: The CIA’s Secret War Against Russian Aircraft Spies
The battle for America’s next-generation aircraft isn’t just happening in top-secret labs or high-security military test sites. It’s being fought in the shadows, inside U.S. aircraft companies, where Russian intelligence operatives work tirelessly to steal cutting-edge technology. This isn’t some Cold War relic — it’s happening right now, as Russian spies embed themselves in defense plants, gaining access to the blueprints, stealth capabilities, and avionics that give American military aircraft their edge.
To fight back, the CIA isn’t just watching from the sidelines. They’re going undercover, slipping their own operatives into these companies to track down and stop Russian moles before they can smuggle secrets back to Moscow. These deep-cover agents don’t arrive in suits and sunglasses. They show up as engineers, IT specialists, security guards — even janitors. The goal is simple: blend in, observe, and strike when the time is right.
Russian espionage inside U.S. aircraft companies isn’t a hypothetical threat — it’s been happening for decades. Back in 1978, Marian Zacharski, a Polish intelligence officer working on behalf of the Soviet bloc, befriended an engineer at Hughes Aircraft in California. Over time, he convinced him to hand over classified information on radar and weapons systems, including advanced aircraft technology.
For three years, Zacharski funneled those secrets back to his handlers until the FBI finally caught up to him in 1981. He was sentenced to life in prison, and his informant got eight years. Decades later, the playbook hasn’t changed. In 2015, Alexander Fishenko, a Russian-American businessman, was busted for illegally exporting microelectronics to Russia, components that could be used in advanced radar and surveillance systems for military aircraft. The methods evolve, but the goal remains the same — stealing U.S. defense technology.
This is exactly why the CIA embeds operatives inside U.S. aircraft companies. Officially, there’s no public record of agents working undercover in these firms, but history tells a different story. The agency has long had deep ties with the aerospace industry. During the Cold War, it worked closely with Lockheed’s Skunk Works division on projects like the U-2 spy plane. While Lockheed’s engineers weren’t CIA operatives themselves, the agency controlled the project from behind the scenes, using intelligence assets to keep Soviet eyes away from the operation. Today, the need for that kind of covert protection is even greater.
In The Hunt for a Russian Spy, CIA operative Corey Pearson gets the call. “We’ve got a problem, and you’re the solution,” says Deputy Director Frank Kimble, sliding a thin folder across the table. Corey flips it open. A Boeing logo stares back at him, along with a grainy satellite image of a sprawling industrial complex. Somewhere inside, a Russian mole is working to steal blueprints for a next-generation hypersonic spy plane. The CIA has intel that they’re making a move soon. Corey’s job? Get in, find the traitor, and shut them down before America’s secrets get shipped off to Moscow. His cover: Brian Carter, Junior Maintenance Technician. A janitor.
That may sound like a demotion for a seasoned CIA operative, but it’s exactly the kind of role that gives him access to nearly every part of the facility without raising suspicion. Maintenance workers move in and out of secure areas unnoticed, and nobody questions the guy fixing the lights or emptying the trash. It’s the perfect vantage point to run surveillance, plant listening devices, and watch for anomalies — an employee acting nervous, someone staying late after hours, a technician inserting a USB drive where they shouldn’t.
This isn’t just fiction, though. The CIA and FBI use similar tactics in real life, embedding personnel in positions where they can monitor insider threats without tipping off the target.
Catching a spy isn’t as simple as watching security footage until someone does something suspicious. Russian intelligence doesn’t send amateurs; they spend years grooming assets inside U.S. defense firms, waiting until they’ve built up trust before making a move. That’s why counterintelligence operations rely on a mix of behavioral profiling, digital forensics, and old-school surveillance. If a foreign operative is caught, it’s rarely a dramatic arrest in a boardroom — it’s a slow, methodical process of gathering evidence, setting traps, and waiting for the moment they slip up.
In the fictional spy thriller The Hunt for a Russian Spy, Corey Pearson, working undercover at Boeing, sets his trap. The mole has been identified, and the CIA feeds them a piece of controlled intelligence — a fake file, loaded with tracking software. When the Russian agent inserts a USB drive to copy the stolen plans, the system flags the breach. Within seconds, security teams move in. The moment the mole tries to leave the facility, the game is over.
In real life, this is how spies get caught. A well-placed sting operation, a misstep by the target, and suddenly, the carefully built espionage network crumbles.
The war for America’s technological dominance isn’t being fought on distant battlefields. It’s happening right here, inside the walls of U.S. aircraft companies. The Russians aren’t going to stop trying to steal the technology that keeps America’s military ahead of the competition, and the CIA isn’t going to stop hunting them down. The question isn’t whether spies are still out there — it’s how many are still waiting for their moment to strike.
Robert Morton is a member of the Association of Former Intelligence Officers (AFIO) and an accomplished author. He writes the Corey Pearson- CIA Spymaster Short Story, blending 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.