I had this dream a few days ago: (Sorry if this winds up being long)
It started in a bathroom at my school, and I was a sophomore again (I'm currently a Junior). It all seemed normal at first, but my friends that were around me looked a little ominous and grim. Then they pulled submachine guns (HK MP-5 for those who know guns, a really compact rifle for those who don't) out of their backpacks. I realized I had one too, and I remembered why:
I attended the same school I did now, but it was far more prestigious. We had all sorts of upper-level resources available to us, including but not limited to our own airfield and a small medical center on-campus. Pretty dang good for a high school. Anyway, since we were a prestigious school, we were prone to all sorts of attention-be it wanted or not. Well, recently we'd recieved some of the unwanted kind. A new teacher had been hired on--and a controversial one. McArthy, creator of mass panic in the second red scare, had a son who would be coming as an Aerospace teacher. Now, as bad as the first McArthy was, this one was worse. He'd never been formally tried for it, but it was commonly mentioned that he'd conspired with terrorists on use of nuclear warheads within US borders.
This led into a flashback of sorts--I was standing in ROTC (A program I left forever last year--turns out military guys don't have a sense of humor), infiltrating his office in a way. Of course, it wasn't overly easy. The ROTC room at our school was a garage for the Auto Tech class once, and it's simply an open area about forty feet wide and long, with offices on both sides. The Drill Team or Ranger Team or classes were constantly taking place within, so finding an open time slot with no observers was difficult. In the end I managed to get a bug planted, and as soon as possible I left the ROTC program once again. After only a week listening in on his office through the bug, I managed to overhear plans for our worst fears, a nuclear strike on our own nation. The exacts were unknown, so we did the only thing we could: We planned Mr. McArthy's immediate removal.
Back to the present, I pulled my HK out as well, and loaded it, checking to make sure the safety was on so that we didn't hurt any innocents. We left the bathroom and walked along the balcony in the commons--though it was crowded, a path opened itself before us as poeple acknowledged the weapons in our hands. One tall, medium-built kid with brown hair tried to jump me, but I brushed him aside and mentioned, without slowing, that he'd better reevaluate whether that was in his future's best interest, and besides--we weren't planning on hurting any students.
It didn't take long for us to get outside the doors, and once we were the details to the plan were rapidly put in place. An armed sentry manned the roof--protecting the Air Force's assets on the airstrip in the rear of the school. Randy--Pyro Yuy on this forum--was to take him out without killing him. Five minutes after he left, the remaining three of us-Me, Tyler and another I didn't recognize-were to break into the medical center, which happened to also include living quarters for certain instructors--all of which were currently locked for the night--and eliminate McArthy as quickly as possible. Yuy left, and as our watches reached the five minute mark, we departed as well. Tyler was in charge of picking the lock, but he was ill prepared and didn't have the lockpicks.. We wound up using a small, directed charge of plastic explosives (pilfered from the Air Force installation in the school) to shatter the pins and open the door. Once inside, we realized that McArthy wasn't present--only his aide. His aide had been a secondary target, but now he was aiming a low-cal pistol at us (Apparently he'd been tipped off--heaven knows how), so we were forced to eliminate him ahead of schedule. It took a significant amount of running around the small, garage-like area before we successfully got a shot on him. When we emerged from the building to seek out McArthy, we found Yuy approaching the building, on schedule.
We questioned him on whether the guard was out for the night, and he, rather startled, answered "He wasn't supposed to die?" After a significant amount of interrogation, we learned that Yuy had decapitated the sentry rather than just KO'd him. Apparently the cops had heard, too, and within seconds of our understanding of the situation, they'd arrived on scene and were arresting him. Luckily enough, they didn't notice--or care, perhaps--that we were carrying sub-machine guns. Well, either way, Yuy and the nameless kid were both arrested.
Tyler and I went back into the school building--now eerily deserted--to seek out McArthy. The dull roar of turbofans shuddered the walls and foundation of the school before we'd gotten halfway accross the commons. That caught our attention--flights weren't scheduled for this time of day (nearing night) because the runway and tower weren't properly equipped with modern gear. We ran into the back of the school to see a personal jet, piloted by McArthy, taxying onto the runway. We didn't have many options--but it would at least take him a while to prepare for the launch. Tyler went up to get a shot from a window with a grenade launcher slung under the barrel of his M-16 (It had been an HK-MP5 earlier, but this was the only 'glitch' I found later while recording the dream in my Dream Journal. I looked for other means to take him out should Tyler fail. As it turns out, the school resource officer (Basically a Police Officer assigned to our school) caught him on the way to his vantage-point, and he was arrested as well.
So, I was left alone. I hijacked a nearby van on the runway and ditched it in the middle of the runway just as the small jet tried to take off. They met rather less violently than I expected halfway down the runway. The jet bumped the van a bit, but McArthy saw the move as he began his trip down the runway, and cut the engines. I'd taken cover a ways off the runway lest the aerospace fuel aboard the jet ignite on the impact. He took the chance he had while I clambored back onto the runway to unload three warheads--a tactical, 20-kT nuclear device about four feet long and six inches thick--and deposit them in the rear of the van, then climb in front and drive off. I followed, having nothing but my feet, relentlessly. He was stopped at the intersection leading out of the parking lot onto a very crowded highway. I caught up--but then things got freaky. The light changed and he took off again, and I followed rapidly. Adrenaline and surreal dream conditions allowed me to keep pace with the van at 50 mph (Er...around 70-80 kmph I think) and slash the tires. He bailed out rapidly, abandoning the nukes in the trunk, and attempted to flee. It didn't take me long to catch him, even without the speed boost from the dream. After all, he was a middle-aged man, and I was a teenager. I'd left my gun at some point, probably as I ditched the van on the runway, so I just pummeled him. Eventually he went unconscious, and I took him back into the medical building unnoticed (I don't know how nobody managed to miss that whole ordeal, but nevertheless, nobody followed) I retrieved my weapon and returned just as he was stirring. After a significant amount of interrogation, I took the liberty of ending his life. Not brutally--just as clean as I could. Of course, that sounds barbaric, but he'd just tried to NUKE me. Funny how often that happens in my dreams....the nuking thing, I mean.
Anyway, I didn't enjoy it so much for the content of the dream as I did for the sheer wonder of it--The whole thing lasted more than an hour dream-time, and it had been so realistic that I only found two errors--The HK-MP5 that later became an M-16 with an underslung grenade launcher, and my superhuman speed in the last few seconds. It really was amazing to experience--even if it was unusually dark and violent...
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