Tijuana Army Military Hospital.
Some areas were heavily guarded, with snipers even positioned on the rooftop. The dean, the vice dean, and others came out to welcome the visitor.
It was surely a high-profile visitor.
April 2, 9:00 AM.
An 8-seat Dodge SUV drove into the hospital, escorted by seven or eight Humvees.
As soon as the vehicle stopped, agents in black suits, with solemn expressions, exited the vehicle and cautiously scanned their surroundings.
After half a minute, Casare finally got out of the car, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, looking... somewhat scholarly?
Except his belly was a bit large.
The dean hurried forward, saluted Casare, and extended his hand in greeting.
"I am here today on behalf of the Supreme Leader to check on Mr. Bramo. How is he doing?"
"He is recovering well, his life is not in danger anymore, but he will have lingering rheumatism pains."
Casare nodded and entered the special care ward under the guidance of the dean.
People, ah...
