First Councillor Marco Valerio had enjoyed the mostly uneventful flight from Mekselia to Tenochtitlán. This time the flight had been shorter, taking about five hours, though time had passed much faster while he reviewed documents and then had a nap. He had stayed up until last the previous night, reading the intelligence brief on Tepetitlán, so that morning he was more tired than usual, and needed some sleep if he wanted to meet his fellow heads of government with a fresh mind. A mere two minutes after he woke up, he heard the familiar voice from the captain asking everyone to fasten their seatbelts in anticipation for their landing. He walked towards his chair and sat, fastening his seatbelt while looking out the window at the runway.
What followed as something he had done multiple times. He would wait until all security checks were performed and the ladder was brought, he would walk down the ladder and shake hands with the ambassador and local officials and then he got into the official vehicle to wherever he needed to go. In this case, the official car and the security vehicles were taken to the Federal Palace, where the summit was set to take place. Along the way he noticed three mountains, what he assumed were the noted volcanoes that characterised the city. Soon after they arrived at the Palace, beautifully built in such a way that it blended with the local scenery, like a building that had grown out of the earth itself.
Once the motorcade reached the entrance of the Palace and noticed that the agent in the front seat was ready to opened his door, Valerio opened the door himself and got out of the car, something that the public liked but also gave headaches to his security details. He liked to feel that he could control certain things, namely the ability to get out of a car on his own. He straightened his suit and walked towards the man apparently waiting for him, reached him, and offered his hand.
"Premier Quetzal, I presume?"