International Relations - Ivy/Chase

This post takes place some time after Paradigm Shift, in November 2012. Major conversations came from a saved chat log (Neutral Grounds), and action scenes were edited by a secret Israeli assassin. South San Francisco - 13:32 hrs. The rough crackle of radio static breaks into a weather forecast. "Seems like it's going to be hot, hot, hot for South San Francisco. Forget a white Christmas and grab your bikinis. In other news..." Chase Devineaux frowned and turned down the radio. "So why don't you take the case handler position?" "I don't know." Ivy looked out the window of Devineaux's Toyota Camry as the Director of Operations drove down El Mateo Real on the way to ACME's new building. "It sort of feels like I'd be stuck in ACME." "Stuck? What else do you want to do?" "Well I could... travel, explore other jobs... get a masters degree." Chase turned towards Ivy briefly at the red light. "In what?" "You know... International Relations." "International Relations? Surprising." "What do you mean by 'Surprising'?" "Just surprising." Chase gave his usual nonchalant look before continuing, "You don't speak any language other than English." "The #$@! does that have to do with international relations?" "Relax, I was--" The buzzing of both their communicators cut Chase off. It was an alert from SFPD and the faint sound of sirens in the distance. "459 Robbery on El Mateo Real. Suspect Santos Guvara, Hispanic male found fleeing the scene. All SFPD officers and ACME detectives on alert." It was then that a thud was sent vibrations across the hood of Chase's Camry. A sweat soaked man had run in front of the vehicle, the former 'thud' coming from his palms as they slammed down to halt the moving car. A split second passed when his eyes connected with the ACME agents inside, first to the driver, Chase Devineaux and then to the redhead Ivy Monaghan. He then dashed across the road, ducking into a nearby alleyway. "Cover the park entrance." Chase commanded before stepping out of his car. Santos Guvara was an athletic man, the muscles he had were workman's muscles, not gym sculpted but gained from manual jobs. Tattoos covered his forearms and chest, many of them religious and others profane. Chase Devineaux dashed after him into the alley, following the thumping of Guvara's doc martins with his own brogues. The Director of Operations wasn't dressed to run down a suspect. His suit constrained movements which would have given him speed, and in a frustrated haste Chase loosened his collar. At the end of the path was a tall chain linked fence which Guvara proceeded to climb quickly, he had crossed over and started down the other side when Chase threw the force of his own body against the fence in much the same manner one would use to break down a door. The resulting push caused the perpetrator to fall on the floor. "¡cáspita!" Guvara yelled as he hit the ground. Somewhat disoriented, Guvara pulled out a pistol that was tucked into the front of his pants, aiming it with some difficulty at the Director. The man on the ground was desperate, and while he didn't want to move his robbery account to murder, adrenaline took control over his survival instinct. Pulling the trigger, he felt his hand grow hot. Before the thief realized it, his gun was out of reach. The heat Guvara had felt was impact from a forceful kick. He saw very little aside from the tall woman from the car, who flipped him over and pinned his hands behind his back, sending searing pain through his arms and skinning the side of his face against rough concrete. "¡No te mueves, pendejo!*" Ivy yelled as she cuffed the suspect. In that narrow space, a breathless Chase exhaled relief from the other side of the fence, a good part of him impressed by Monaghan's quick action. "¿A tu hablas español?" Devineaux asked with a doubtful smile, rethinking his comment about languages and International Relations. "What?" Ivy snapped as she pulled Santos up. Then as she translated what Chase must have said, she replied, "Oh. No... that's all the Spanish I know." ------------ *Translation: Don't move, dumbass