New World Order - 2. Chapter 2: Mike

It was dusk when we awoke, still wrapped in each other’s arms and legs. The sensation of sleeping with another person had become foreign to me, yet being with Jim was as simple and natural as any time I had been with my late wife.

He opened his eyes, focused on my face, smiled and rose up to kiss me. I eagerly returned his kiss. “Tom, I have to go, as much for your safety as mine. They’ll keep searching until they find me.” I experienced a new hurt, already losing a life I had barely started to live. “The group meets at Mike’s Gym. Do you know it?” I recalled a place in a battered strip mall by the old railroad, near where I had purchased tires some years before. He confirmed that it was the place. “The guys work out there and can exchange messages. So far, it been quiet, no one bothers us there. Mike’s a pretty good trainer, too. It helps to be in shape and Mike has good advice on how to stay alive living this near the edge.”

“Will I see you there?” I asked hopefully.

“I don’t know, though I doubt it. I’ll probably have to move on after all this. Tom, if it works out, I’d sure like to see you again, but we’ll just have to see. You can ask Mike, he’ll know where I am.”

He asked me for some clothes to wear, putting his torn and bloody clothing into a plastic bag to carry away with him. I went to the kitchen to make something for him to eat while he dressed, already wondering where my life was leading. I heard him enter the room and turned toward him. I was again struck by how handsome he was, wearing my clothing more comfortably than I did. He had the bag over his shoulder and his rifle at his side. I packed up the sandwiches I had made and got a bottle of water. He added these to the plastic bag. He put the bag and gun down and stepped over to me.

As he took me in his arms, I could feel hot tears running down my face. He kissed me, “Goodbye Tom, and thanks. I owe you my life. Go to Mike’s. I’ll let him know you’ll be by.” He turned and went out through the back door, disappearing into the deepening night. I stood dumbly, my mind whirling over the events of the past day, not really believing that I had lived them.

***

I was lonelier that night than ever before having emerged from the numb grief following the destruction of my family and no longer having the one who sparked the change to hold in my arms. I lay long into the night, replaying my experiences with Jim in my mind, wishing he were there. The next few days were lost to this longing. Then, after several days of indecision, I resolved to go to Mike’s Gym.

The part of town where Mike’s was located was never glamorous, but I did not expect the level of deterioration that I found. Burned out cars were scattered around the street and parking lot. Trash blew freely across the broken pavement. Mike’s Gym was the only business still operating in the strip mall. The other storefronts were all boarded up. I was surprised on entering the gym by the clean, well-lit facility. The gym was quite large, extending into several adjoining storefronts, belying the abandoned look of the mall.

A few men were lifting weights, their heads turned toward me as I entered. One of the men, of medium height and compact build approached me from the back of the room. He wore a t-shirt, with “Mike’s Gym” across the chest, the lettering distorted by the powerful muscles of the chest of its wearer. The man offered me his hand, “I’m Mike. Welcome to my gym. Did you want to work out?” I felt Mike’s eyes glance over my body, making me feel sloppy and out of shape. Mike was clearly fifteen years older, but solid and strong, with all the confidence of a fit man.

“Come on in. If you want, we can put together a work out plan for you. Help you get into shape without hurting – well at least not too much.” Mike smiled, not with any condescension, just encouragement.

I muttered, “Jim said I should come, that I could help.” Mike’s smile vanished for a moment, replaced by concern. “Maybe we should step into the office, so we can go over the membership.” He led me to the back, into a small room with a desk and a few chairs. As he closed the door, he leaned out and said to one of the men working out, “Bruno, I need a couple of minutes, can you handle the front for me?” I heard “yeah, Mike” from beyond the door as it closed.

Mike sat in one chair, gesturing for me to sit as well. “So you’re the one Jim ran into a couple nights back? Damn lucky for Jim he didn’t get caught and beaten to death. He told me you might be in, but wasn’t sure. I don’t know what he told you about us, but even knowing we exist can cost you your life, and maybe ours, too.”

I could feel Mike’s eyes appraising me again, though this time he was looking for something else. “Jim told me about your family. Tough, real tough losing them like that. So what else do you know?”

While I didn’t feel threatened, I knew I was out of my element. These men could break me in two, dispose of the body and no one would ever be the wiser. I realized that I could either trust this man or try to walk away, walk away and never find out if the mission Jim was on was for me, too. So I gave over any concern and put my life into Mike’s hands. I told him the few things Jim had told me, about the resistance movement dedicated to tolerance and freedom. I told him that I had been wronged and wanted to do what I could for revenge and to set things right.

Mike listened, paused a while, then said, “Once you’re with us, you can’t go back. You’re life – as long it lasts – won’t ever by the same. And you won’t always know why you’re asked to do some things. You just have to do them and trust that we’re all doing the right thing. We’re made up of small cells, but coordinated by a changing committee. We operate all over the world, and keep moving. We make small progress and hope to carve out some territory we can defend, a place we can live according to what we know is right.”

Without waiting for me to answer, Mike opened a drawer in the desk and pulled out some forms and a pen. “Alright, let’s get some basic information.” I stammered, “What is this, I didn’t think there was an application.” Mike laughed, “It’s just a gym membership, your basic stats and health stuff, so we can design a training plan. Look, I can see on your face that you’re to be trusted and you’re more committed to all this than any words you can say. But before we can use you, you need to get into shape. During the time it takes, I can fill you in what we’re about and get an idea of where you’ll be useful. After that, the committee will assign you. So how much do you weigh?”

“But what about Jim?” I asked. Mike’s face again fell. “Jim won’t be around for a while. He’s in deep hiding. He’s being blamed for a lot of stuff, only a little of which he was really involved with. Before he left, he asked me to take good care of you, said he really hoped he’d see you again, when all this was over. I hadn’t seen Jim so worked up before. What did you guys do?” Mike looked at me again and slowly smiled. “Yup, desperation does make for strange bedfellows,” he said knowingly.

I went to the gym each day, sometimes just working out, sometimes meeting with Mike who talked about various events that had occurred against the terrorist regime, explaining the part this “group” had in making them happen. He questioned me about my background and education. He was most interested in the extensive hiking and backpacking of my youth, asking how well I remembered the areas I had spent time in.

Some days it felt good to work out, other days it just hurt, but I could see how my body was changing. I was never in bad shape, but the months of sitting in grief had taken its toll. Now I was back in life, even if I was very sore.

It had been about two months since I started with all this. Mike was working out with me, showing me technique, spotting me on the lifts. During a rest, he asked, “So when are you going to ask?” “Ask what?” “So are all you guys gay?” “You mean weight lifters?” “No, us, you know the group?” I felt embarrassed; not at all sure what to say next, though since meeting Jim, I had long wondered and wondered why Mike had never made any indication before.

“Well, we’re not – weightlifters are mostly – but the group is just people like yourself who have lost so much, they’re willing to fight against losing any more. Most cells are made up of a mix, but the action teams, well they’re mostly gay guys living, fighting and sometimes dying together. It just seems to work out best that way.”

“What about you, Mike?”

“Hell yes I’m gay. It’s why I had to get out of the Marine Corps. After ten years and working my way up to officer, my lover of eight of those years gets caught with an enlisted man and rats me out to reduce his own trouble. I’m still sore at that bastard, but he sure is a good fuck.”

“You still see him?”

“Yeah, we’re still together, love him anyway, I guess. Come in late one night, I’ll introduce you. He works out late, when he’s in town. He travels a lot and it worries me, but he’s doing his part for all of us.” The mixed looks of amusement, irritation, and plain love played over Mike’s face.

“And I just thought you didn’t find me attractive” I teased.

“Tommy, you came in hear looking mighty good, and with all the working out you’ve done – pretty much thanks to me – you are one fine looking man. And if it weren’t for Terrance, yes that’s his name, Terrance, I’d be all over your ass.” I knew Mike and I had become good friends.

A few days later, Mike met me at the door with a serious look. “Tom, I’ve gotten your assignment. They need someone to work with a small group that escorts specialists from place to place. You’ve got the smarts to lead a group, but you need to get some experience on the lines, so I suggested you. You leave tonight. God knows I’ll miss you and God knows I’m real sorry I’m so damned faithful to Terrance.”