The old man slowly walked through his aging villa. Walking staff in hand, he was checking a list of things in his mind. It had been over a year since he had done anything but sit alone, deep in meditation. The former leader of the Brotherhood had become merely a ghost to all but his closest confidants. The cancer that had ravaged his body had gone into remission, though the damage to his physical shell had been done. He could only walk slowly, and while he was trying to rehab his strength, he did not know if he would ever sit in the cockpit of a Titan again. Thus, he was quite happy when he received word from El Presidente, asking if he would host the Pontiff at the Sephardi Villa. Miguel Sephardi was if nothing else, a student of history, and he revered the historical line and power that the Pontiff represented. He knew the power of bringing the Pontiff into the Spanish realm once again. He knew what it could do for his people. "Once a diplomat, always a diplomat" he thought lightly to himself. Sephardi had several servants working on preparing the East Wing of the Villa for his guests. One by one they would find him wandering the wing and report on these preparations. Miguel knew all would be ready, he had the highest confidence in his people, as always, and his wandering was not out of a sense that things needed to be checked, but as one gets older, it is important to keep moving, and that's what the old man was doing, at his own slow pace, he was keeping his body working.
Finally the last tasks had been completed, the Villa was ready for it's guests. 17 suites had been readied, he had brought in more chefs from the Brotherhood garrison from nearby, as well as more valets and other staff that would be needed for the guests. This would be the largest event the Sephardi Villa had hosted in over a hundred years, and Miguel intended to make sure everything went well. But with all the preparations done, all that was left to do was wait for his guests to arrive.