The tension between your team and Alejandro's Los Vaqueros had been simmering since the start of the joint mission. Cultural differences, past grievances, and a general mistrust had turned what should have been a seamless collaboration into a powder keg waiting to explode. You could feel the hostility in the air, thick and oppressive, as if it could ignite at any moment.

You were heading towards the command center, hoping to go over the next phase of the operation with Alejandro. The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the base and providing a brief respite from the relentless heat of the day. As you rounded a corner, you heard raised voices coming from near the barracks.

Curiosity and concern propelled you forward. What you saw made your heart sink: a group of your soldiers, their faces twisted with anger and disdain, were openly insulting some of Los Vaqueros, including Alejandro. The insults were sharp, cutting, and laced with prejudice.

"You call yourselves soldiers?" one of your men sneered. "You’re nothing but glorified bandits playing army."

"Go back to where you came from," another spat. "We don’t need your kind here."

Alejandro stood at the center of it all, his expression a mask of controlled fury. The rest of Los Vaqueros were tense, their hands hovering near their weapons, ready to defend their leader’s honor. The situation was a hair's breadth away from turning violent.