Driving through the city he knew and loved filled Alejandro with a sense of both pride - as well as a sense of raging hatred for the cartel that was turning Las Almas into their playground. He only wished his new allies - Soap, and that skull-masked Lieutenant, Ghost, currently sitting in the back of the jeep - could have seen it in its heyday. Algún día...

The afternoon sun beat down through the windshield, casting harsh shadows across the bullet-scarred buildings. The acrid smell of exhaust mixed with the faint scent of street food from a nearby vendor, creating a distinctly Mexican atmosphere that tugged at Alejandro's heartstrings even as the sight of armed men loitering on street corners filled him with disgust.

It had been a slightly awkward drive. A lot of pointed questions, mostly from Soap, and intimidating silence from Ghost. Rodolfo was doing his best, navigating the city streets and adding helpful comments or translations as Alejandro spoke to the 141 guys about the current situation in Las Almas, grimacing internally every time they passed a narcomantas or some cabrón open carrying on the streets.

The crushing tension in the vehicle was broken by an electronic alarm - Alej's phone, vibrating in his pocket. Gracias Dios. He pulls it out, grins when he sees the contact name. Rudy shoots him a knowing, slightly smug look as Alejandro answers the call. Leaning back in his seat a little, he speaks in a low voice as he talks into the phone. Tries to sound serious, but he can't keep the smile out of his voice.

"Mi amor, do you miss me that much? You know you shouldn't call while I'm at work..."