Melissa bundled herself into the small phone booth, her head lowered so her greasy light blonde hair fell over her face. One of her hands clinched to the loose fitting T-Shirt of her companion, she felt her fingers shaking but she couldn't tell if it was from the cold of the darkening evening or from fear. Her companion picked the receiver from the hook and dialled a number that she couldn't see. Maybe her shakes were from adrenaline, she tried to calm herself down and focus on the amount of rings she could faintly hear from the other end of the phone line. Her other hand tightened on the handgun she held in her fingers as a female voice answered, Melissa couldn't hear properly the exchange of words, but she could tell that the conversation was heated. As her eyes lowered to the weapon, she felt herself startle and tried tor recall exactly how she had got into this giant mess.
She already partially knew the answer, it was all due to her involvement with the man she was currently clinging to. Although when she had first met him, she hadn't realised that he would take her down the dangerous route that they were currently on. Their meeting had been an entirely innocent thing. He had helped her during a particularly sticky situation when she had been walking home from work involving a couple of shady characters. He had then offered to walk her the rest of the way home, and although the walk hadn't been entirely comfortable their friendship and relationship had grown from it.
Melissa lifted her head and looked out the scratched window of the phone booth upon hearing the sounds of sirens over the phone conversation. Her green eyes gazing at the top of the buildings around them, a blazing fire raging above where her apartment had once been. She fought back tears as she suddenly recalled Percival, her pet cat, being at home. The abrupt loss of memories that her apartment had held overwhelming her and a heavy tear fell down her cheek. She knew that she had to be strong to get through the ordeal, that she had to now give all her support to her man, after all it would be him that whoever it was would be after, not her. She was just a simple working chiropractor and generally cheerful character, often over looked as ordinary.
Her man on the other hand, was a Vietnam war veteran with an enemy list as long as his strong arms. Melissa let out a small sigh and rested her head against his chest trying to steal some of his body heat, feeling unrealistically cold and shivering. Shock, that must be it. Though she felt comforted as he rested his arm around her, when it came to affection her partner didn't often know how to express himself. Melissa had known this about him from the few months they had been together, which made the holding gesture all the more comforting.
"No. Two." He spoke into the phone clearly, Melissa could hear the conversation through the vibrations in his chest. The other side of the conversation was as hard to make out as ever.
"Myself and a friend," he enlightened the person he had called. Melissa assumed that it was someone that he had worked with in the past, someone he could really rely on. Possibly even someone that owed him a favour. She couldn't begin to guess what for.
Without a farewell he put the receiver back onto the hook, as quickly as she could, Melissa handed the handgun back to her man and he put into the back of his trouser, pulling his loose shirt over the back of it covering it from view. Melissa just felt pleased to have it out of her hands again.
Moving out of the phone booth she looked down the street cautiously, then her head raised to the fire again.
"Don't look!" He told her abruptly, and her head lowered again. His hand reached out for hers and she quickly fell into her place at his side. Her fingers coiling with his, her heart was pounding from when he had raised his voice to her and she felt a wave of panic and doubt in her mind. He set their walking pace to brisk and Melissa had trouble in keeping up.
"Where are we going?" Melissa asked, her feeling of panic was evident in her voice and she was met with a front of silence. "John?" She pressed again, hoping that the use of his name would bring about an answer, yet silence was all she was once again faced with. She had so many questions that she wanted answering. The one she had voiced was the most simple of them.
Melissa pulled her fingers away from Johns and stood in the middle of the street they had been making their way down. The drama of the entire situation adding to the emphasis of her questioning and speaking in a different, more timid manner. "Rambo?" Melissa found the use of his surname rolled strangely off her tongue, and she had never gotten used to the way it sounded. The use of it had gotten the reaction that she had wanted and he stopped a couple of paces in front of her.
Her face was one full of concern, "I love you Rambo, I really do. I trust you, but someone just blew up my apartment..." she started to speak to him and he recounted his steps towards her, him coming back towards her cut off her voice. She wanted him to tell her that it was all going to be all right and everything would be fine. She knew that wasn't going to happen and that she would have to bolster her own courage and she found that she couldn't look into his eyes as he spoke.
"Come on," he ordered her and she did, knowing that she had over stepped the boundaries with questioning him at a time like this. This was what he did, what he lived and was in his blood. She had been foolish to question him in the art of warfare. If she were to see this through to the end, then she knew she would have to toughen up somehow. She would have to find her strength in him, or be crushed underneath her own fear of the unknown. She had just declared that she trusted him and his judgement, she had to back up those words.
In silence the two of them moved down the quiet back street and crossed down into a secluded alleyway and over to the busier street. John lifted his hand and caught the attention of a taxi driver. Opening the door he let Melissa into the cab first and followed in after, telling the driver to take them to the airport. He then sat down and fell into a deeper silence, and Melissa could see that he was deep in thought about the entire situation, his arms folded across his chest.
Melissa sat with her handbag on her lap, and started a pleasant conversation with the driver, generally about the fact that there was a bit of a pile up due to some sort of gas explosion not to far away from where they were.
"A gas explosion?" Melissa questioned, "Maybe some old woman left the oven on?" she added as a thought, just trying to be relaxed about the whole thing.
"Certainly has caused a mess of things." the driver told her, looking out of the windscreen. "Going on holiday?" He then asked keeping the conversation going with the cheerful seeming woman.
"Yeah, we're going to Thailand, on our Honeymoon." Melissa lied, seeing as everything else she told the taxi driver had been a lie, she might as well continue on with the fabrications. Naturally, the taxi driver was happy for them and gave John a look through the mirror. He was looking particularly grumpy and looking out of the window in his guarded position in the cab, no hint of happiness in his face, but then they were really running for their lives not enjoying wedded bliss. As Melissa looked over him as the taxi driver did, she couldn't help but feel herself swoon, but then she was particularly besotted with the man and had been ever since he had saved her those months ago, she had even grown used to the horribly out fashioned bandanna.
"Congratulations," the taxi driver said with a level of hesitation to his voice, he then fell into silence himself, uncertain on how to take the happy couple from that moment on.
The rest of the journey seemed to take longer than it should have done, and there was a level of apprehension part way though the trip when she noticed the same car more than once behind them. She was certain that Rambo had seen them to, so didn't mention it to him. Besides it could just be more of a coincidence, the airport was a busy place. The door to the taxi was opened by the driver and he let them go, Melissa reached into her handbag for her purse to pay the man, with a smile. "Good luck," he leaned in to tell her, eyeing her husband. She nodded to him and parted ways to join with John once more.
"I think we we're followed," she told him looking over her shoulder to see if she could spot the car pulling up behind them. "There," she pointed towards the black car as discreetly as she could. John nodded to her and made his way to the entrance of the airport, he held the door open for Melissa to get into the building, but didn't follow behind her. Heading towards the black car to find out who was trying to kill him.