I grab a clear plastic plate from a counter in the clubhouse and work my way through the line. Francisco is still behind the spatula. He recognizes me, I think. He slaps my plate full with both courses and then urges me on with a jerk of his head. There’s an older woman serving water in small pap...
Two members of his personal guard escort me and place themselves on sentry duty right outside the door. Ronald’s office is, on the whole, a pretty standard affair: basic desk, high-backed, leather chair, two low-backed, leather chairs for guests, a couple of bookshelves, and a potted plant in the...