He wanted to say something, but couldn't.
He just stood there, accompanying her.
February 15, 1998, early morning, Quito, Presidential Palace basement.
When Sinopiquiar was dragged out, his legs were too weak to stand.
He knew what day it was today.
Extradition.
To Mexico City.
To face trial by the Mexican people.
He struggled to say something, but with a gag in his mouth, he couldn't utter a word.
He was thrown into an armored vehicle.
The door closed, darkness engulfing everything.
The vehicle started moving.
Amidst the roar of the engine, he heard people whispering nearby.
"...public trial... death penalty..."
He closed his eyes.
The face of that three-year-old child surfaced again in his mind.
February 15, 1998, afternoon, Mexico City, National Palace.
Victor stood at the window, looking at Paseo de la Reforma outside.
The traffic was slow, yet orderly.
In the distance, the newly built "Phoenix Nest" stadium gleamed under the sunlight.
