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LOCATION: CIA HEADQUARTERS
CITY: LANGLEY, VIRGINIA
DATE: DECEMBER 4, 2025 | TIME: 1:30 PM
Following their successful mission in Geneva, Elise arranged for a secure courier to deliver doses of Vitalyx to a handpicked group of twenty-five individuals selected by Dr. Marchand. The shipment would arrive in two days, with Rejuvenex scheduled to follow a week later. Marchand had personally guaranteed their discretion, choosing only those with a long-demonstrated history of loyalty and silence.
With Doctors Without Borders now aligned for timely integration, Graham turned his attention to a more ambitious target: seeding the Peacekeeper force across the globe. To that end, he sent a secure System message to Valerie Connors, requesting a call on the encrypted line when she had a moment.
She called that evening, just after 10:00 PM Eastern Time. Graham had only just returned to his San Francisco apartment, pouring a glass of scotch when the secure phone buzzed in his pocket.
“Valerie. How are you doing? Everything okay on your end?”
He could hear the smile in her voice. Valerie had taken to treating Graham like the big brother she’d never had—warm, affectionate, and just a little mischievous.
“Yeah, everything’s great, actually. I’ve got this ridiculous amount of energy every morning now. I mean—wow. You know how it is. But anyway, what can I do for you?”
Graham chuckled. “It really is a good feeling. Sorry to jump right into business, but we’re on a bit of a clock, and we could use some of your... special charm.”
Valerie laughed. “Of course. What do you need?”
Graham outlined his plan to recruit overseas members of the CIA, explaining that he wanted to begin near the top—not at the political appointee level, but with the career veterans who ran the real operations. He mentioned bringing Sienna Black along, given her deep background in black ops with CIA-linked units.
There was a short pause on the other end before Valerie spoke again.
“You know, Nathan Rourke was just promoted to Director of Clandestine Operations. I think Senator Langston has a bit of history with him from his time on the Senate Select Committee on Intelligence. And for once, it’s not adversarial—it’s actually pretty positive.”
“Clandestine Operations, huh?” Graham was already pulling up information on Rourke. “That’s perfect. I’m looking him up now…”
As Graham scanned what he could find, Valerie filled in the color commentary.
“Army, I think, but he joined the Agency not long after his service and never looked back. Speaks a handful of languages, and there’s a rumor he got the scar on his cheek from a knife fight during an op in Marrakesh.”
Graham skimmed the highlights of what was available to him—field operations, extractions, human intelligence, and a personnel file marked with more redacted entries than most. But his mind was already made up.
“He sounds like exactly what we need. Just imagine—if we can integrate the Agency’s overseas field cadre, our Peacekeeper presence goes global overnight. Do you have a way to get us in?”
Valerie’s voice dropped to a silky murmur. “Oh, big brother… leave it to me. I’ll make sure the soil’s fertile before you plant the seed. When you meet with him, he’ll already be leaning your way.”
Her tone sent a faint shiver down Graham’s spine, and it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. He wasn’t sure if it was her words or her confidence—but either way, he liked it.
“Sounds good. Stay safe, Valerie. No unnecessary risks, all right? We’ve got time.”
“Understood. I’ll text you tomorrow.”
True to her word, Valerie got to work the next morning.
On December 4th, Graham arrived in Washington and linked up with Sienna Black for the trip to CIA Headquarters in Langley, Virginia.
Riding in the back of the black government SUV, Graham sat with his hands clasped in his lap, rubbing them together unconsciously.
Sienna noticed immediately. “Grim, what’s going on with you? You never get nervous.”
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
He exhaled, then grinned. “It’s not nerves, exactly. I’m excited. If we can pull this off, we’ll have nearly global coverage. Add in a few more military units, and the Peacekeeper Force will be ready for their Tutorial. It’s a big fucking deal.”
Sienna reached across the seat and gently placed a hand over his.
“Aria told me to keep an eye on you today.” Her voice softened. “I know the stakes are high—but I’ve worked with Rourke. We speak the same language. Field people like us don’t forget what it means to trust someone with your life.”
She squeezed his hand, grounding him.
“This’ll come together, Boss. You’ll see.”
The car pulled through the outer security gate. After presenting their credentials and receiving clearance, Graham and Sienna were dropped off in front of the original CIA headquarters building. Inside, they confirmed their appointment with reception.
“You’re all set,” the receptionist said, handing over two visitor badges on lanyards. “Please wear these visibly at all times. Someone will be with you shortly.”
They took a seat in the sparse, high-ceilinged lobby. Graham, noticeably calmer now, clasped his hands loosely in his lap. A few minutes later, an aide arrived, called their names, and escorted them through a labyrinth of hallways—past glass partitions, sealed doors, and neutral walls—until they reached a small, windowless conference room. Six chairs surrounded a clean wood table. The aide promised coffee and returned moments later with two cups before departing.
Then the door opened again, and Nathan Rourke stepped in.
His suit was tailored, professional, but didn’t hide the build of someone who still pushed himself physically. Late fifties, maybe, with silver at the temples and the posture of a man who didn’t give up ground lightly. He spotted Sienna immediately and crossed the room to shake her hand.
“Sienna! It’s damn good to see you again. How long’s it been—Kabul, right? Looks like you’ve kept busy since leaving the black side of things.”
Sienna smiled, her handshake firm. “Kabul, yeah. Good memory. And congratulations on the promotion, Director Rourke. Quite the milestone for someone who’s seen what we’ve seen.”
“Appreciate that,” he said with a nod.
She turned to Graham. “Let me introduce Graham Thorne. We’ve been working together ever since I left… my previous employer. Graham is…”
“SEALs, I know,” Rourke said, already reaching for a handshake. “I’ve heard the name for years. Good to finally put a face to it. Welcome.”
They all sat. Rourke gestured casually. “This room’s secure. Say what you need to say.”
Graham took a sip of coffee, then set the mug down with a soft clink.
“Thank you. I’ve been trying to figure out how to phrase this for a while, but I suspect someone with your background appreciates directness.”
He looked Rourke in the eye.
“We’ve got two serums to offer you and the members of the Clandestine Service—one eliminates all disease and corrects any harmful genetic mutations. The other... reverses aging. It restores your body to its peak state—roughly thirty years old. It’s not truly permanent, but it slows aging drastically. Hundreds of healthy years are on the table.”
Rourke blinked, his features tightening. “Come again? Something like that would’ve required decades of testing. Trials. Regulatory clearance. I would’ve heard about it through a dozen channels.”
Sienna leaned in. “They were developed in private labs owned by Elliot Voss. Classified as nutritional supplements, intentionally kept off the books. No FDA filings. No press. Just results.”
Rourke studied them both. “You’ve taken them?”
“Yes,” Graham said. “And as for why we’re offering them to the CIA—this is an early part of a larger rollout. Voss left an endowment to ensure both compounds will be distributed globally, free of charge, to every human on the planet.”
He let that hang, letting the full weight of it settle.
“We’re offering this early to your clandestine field officers for two reasons. One: it helps to have distributed agents already acclimated when the global transition begins. And two…” Graham smiled faintly. “We’re patriots. Supporting the intelligence community is an honor.”
He folded his hands and waited.
Rourke stared at the table, motionless for several long seconds, the faintest crease forming between his brows.
“You know, when Valerie Connors reached out from Langston’s office and suggested I hear you out, I figured you had more intel on North Korea. And by the way—hell of a job taking out Bureau 121. They’re already trying to train up replacements, of course, but at least it disrupted their program.”
He looked up again, eyes sharp but no longer skeptical.
“But this? This is… beyond belief. I’d be a fool to refuse it. How does it work?”
They explained the two-step process in plain terms. Vitalyx came first—a comprehensive biological cleanser that purged toxins, repaired damaged DNA, and stabilized immune responses. After a short adjustment period, Rejuvenex followed. It reactivated telomerase production, flushed senescent cells, and rebuilt the body’s systems to their optimal form—roughly equivalent to someone in their early thirties.
Graham made sure to emphasize the importance of spacing the doses properly—Vitalyx first, and Rejuvenex no sooner than seven days later. They would deliver enough doses to cover the entire group Rourke designated, under strict handling protocols.
When the meeting concluded, they stood and shook hands once more.
“Well,” Rourke said with a faint smile, “this wasn’t what I expected—but it’s the best surprise I’ve had in twenty years. If there’s ever anything I can do for you in return...”
Graham raised his palms. “There’s no need, Nathan. We’re just glad to help.”
They said their goodbyes, and were escorted back through the halls to the front lobby, where their vehicle waited at the curb.
Opting to return separately, Sienna headed to her home in Virginia Beach, while Graham was dropped at the airport, where his Gulfstream awaited.
Settling into the same seat Mallory had used weeks earlier, Graham poured himself a drink and let the silence stretch. The deal was done. Another pillar in place.
And one step closer to building the force that would stand between humanity… and whatever came next.