Mark arrived back at the hotel where the US team were staying. Santiago gave him a hand out of the cab, making him feel even more frail than usual.
After walking a few feet, he stumbled briefly, only to be caught by his son.
"Dad! Are you okay?" Santiago's face was shrouded with worry as he propped him up on his shoulder.
"I… I'm just a bit light headed. Help me to my room." Mark responded, his voice lacking the usual deep and commanding tone that he was used to.
Santiago hesitated, "Shouldn't I call an ambulance?"
"No, it's not my lungs. I think I'm just tired." He replied.
Yet this was a lie. His lungs had been burning ever since they left the restaurant, giving him the urge to cough. The pain was nothing like he'd ever felt before, but he did his best for his son not to worry.
