La Vida Loca

We were relaxing, tired, but content from our day with The Emissary. I swirled the warm red wine in my glass and smiled at The Bishop. The light silhouetted his form, as he intently gazed into his crystal, waiting for a message from The Factor.

The Bishop's brow furrowed, "He'll be late at best."

"What does he say?"

"The authorities closed the main port and he had to negotiate transport." The Bishop responded, then a smile broke across his face. "It seems he had to take a coach to Latacunga, then to Guayaquil to make his final escape on a vessel bound for The Republic."

I looked questioningly at The Bishop -- The Factor was, after all, accustomed to making last minute tactical decisions on the fly, and mob-like situations were not uncommon to him.

The Bishop explained, "Apparently the coach fare included cultural immersion... complete with loud ethnic music for the many hours of transport."

I laughed out loud. The Factor certainly was living La Vida Loca...