For once, Salvador Vargas was enjoying himself.

When the order came to muster up his team for the incoming Concilium Campaign, he imagined he would find himself waiting for their moment on a Nomad Ship in orbit around the planet. The Black Hand sent him to Montalban instead, for a brief stint of “leave” in the resort town. He wasn’t used to this kind of treatment, but he felt he could manage.

He took a walk in the sun-lit streets until he found a small restaurant that boasted a terrace with a view of the sea (which, even after years of planetside operations, still didn’t trust that much) and followed a waiter to a small table in the shade, on an elevated veranda. He ordered a drink, sat facing the sea and closed his eyes.

The restaurant was playing some soft music, an old spanish song that he heard sometimes on the more refined establishment on his native Corregidor. He let the music take him back to his youth in Lazareto, enjoying the cool sea breeze, for once free of obligations and missions.

“Tequila Sunrise, sir?”

A familiar voice ripped him away from his daydreaming. He opened his eyes to see Kaz, an old friend of his, standing up near him with a multicolored beverage on a tray. The vacationing vibe was killed outright by the fact that he was wearing his full combat gear, helmet and all.

“Kaz, for the love of god, why?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.

“you ordered it?” answered Kaz, with the usual flat, emotionless tone of voice he used when he was looking to get a raise out of someone.

“No, you bastard, why are you here dressed up for a fight?” he snapped back at the Heckler, reaching for his multicolored cocktail.

Kaz took a seat at the table and removed his helmet, making a show of wiping sweat from his brow.

“You know,” Kaz said, “I don’t enjoy the sea very much. Salt water is terrible for electronics”

“Kaz…” said Vargas, with a sigh.

“And don’t get me started on sand. I hate sand. It’s coarse, and rough, and irritating, and it gets everywhere” Kaz continued.

“Kaz, please…” said Vargas, pleading.

Kaz seemed to ponder if he could get away with his bit for another beat or two, but decided not to push his luck. He sighed, and shifted gears in business mode.

“We got our orders, boss. Next mission is right here in Montalban. I’ve been asked to give you this” he said, placing a small datachip on the table, “and this” he said, procuring an handgun from the depths of his jacket.

Vargas looked at the two objects, picking up the chip first and then checking the gun for bullets and cocking it.

“Ah, well, fuck” he said, “is this one of those situations where I got sent on vacation on the site of the mission?” he asked.

“yep” answered Kaz, curtly.

“And opposing agents got a whiff of my location and their mission is to kill me before we can start our mission?”