“Admiral Mondragón,” the Secretary continued, speaking loudly enough for everyone to hear, “the President of the Republic has personally asked me to locate you. We were unaware that you had returned to national territory. We wish to extend our official congratulations on the success of Operation Sentinel in the Gulf. The intelligence you coordinated saved thousands of lives and protected the sovereignty of our waters. The Pentagon and the United Nations sent letters of recognition this very morning.”
A collective gasp swept through the room. Glasses fell from the hands of some guests.
Admiral? That man? The exiled son? The black sheep?
Don Arnulfo felt as if the ground were opening up beneath his feet. The words echoed in his brain like explosions. “Admiral… President… United Nations… Hero.”
“I appreciate the gesture, General,” Leo replied, without losing his humility. “But this is a private visit. I’m here only as a brother, not as a Vice Admiral.”
“We understand, sir,” Valdez agreed admiringly. “But protocol requires that if an officer of your rank and decoration is present, he be given the appropriate escort. My men and I are at your service.”