If the mod uses :

An alarm shrieked from the main console. Nicks yelled, “Incoming transmission! The Cartel’s moving the payload to the train depot in twenty minutes. It’s buried in chaos—cumbia samples, static, a guy ordering tacos, a baby crying.”

The laptop hummed. The fan roared. Then, a voice—warm, slightly sarcastic, with a faint Colombian lilt—whispered from the speakers: “Ay, Luna. ¿Otra vez? Okay. Let’s dance.”