Epic Conflict

I'm on some sort of battlefield / arctic base. The entire compound is made of sheet ice. It's expansive – something out of a movie. There is a war going on... a real war. I'm some sort of soldier... a commando or something without direct orders. I keep moving around, looking for something. I find my mom and Josh meandering about among other refugees. I'm glad they are ok.

Dream 2, or maybe offshoot of dream 1:

I'm at some political function – location may as well be a Marriott. The American president is there (no face, not black either, so not Obama), as is a former president. There are a number of tables in a ballroom. You're there, sitting next to someone in important who you are to introduce or something. You're famous... for some exploit involving having taken someone down with a rifle. There is a bullet hole on the nearby wall to prove it. I don't know my role in this dream... I'm just a guy. I think I work for the government. Somehow, I become aware that some crazy person who had been put away for a while unjustly is here and is going to try to kill the president. For some reason though, I'm not allowed to apprehend him or shoot him or do anything to obstruct him or anything that would alert him of my presence until he draws his gun. I hide behind and underneath this podium on which the president is supposed to stand. The enemy approaches. two other guys make to hide under the podium with me and I decide that's too many so I up and leave. You leave for some reason... I think to go to the bathroom. I am around the corner from the podium. Shots are fired. The president has his head blown off. Security guards get into a fire fight with other people at the convention. Apparently this was orchestrated and many more people are involved... and have taken out most of the security guards. You come back suddenly and blast one guy against the wall with some big ass magnum. I dispatch a few with my gun, but run out of ammo so I run for cover behind a jutting in a wall adjacent to the revolving door. A gun shot brazes past me. I'm pinned. I see a doorman maybe 20 paces away from me and he takes notice of me and slowly moves his uzi in my direction. I bound directly toward him, picking up some little ass pocket knife on the floor. There is a metal sheet of some sort on the floor – about the size of a door but not flat, it is a tubular – I slide and coast on it as I run it into the doorman before he can adequately react. I stab him with the pocket knife, then mysteriously discover a bigger knife and I think I finish him off it it. I pick up the uzi and meander around, dispatching several enemies. I stumbled upon a room in which Rebecca Romijn is there as some whore, possibly waiting on one of the bad guys – which, if he is there, I dispatch. She thanks me and tells me Sam is also there and directs me to a room down the hall. Apparently it's some burlesque operation. I see Sam dressed in some blue lingerie. I talk to her and she tells me she has to go see her client. I tell her not to go, that I want to right things between us. I then make out with her a bit and she responds that it's almost good enough to make her want to get back together (or maybe I'm making that up). She tells me again she has to go see her client but to wait there and she will return in 15 minutes. I wait but get impatient. Maybe time runs out; maybe the other situation becomes urgent. I leave the quarters and make my way to the presidential suite – the green room of sorts. I'm out of ammo at this point and I hear someone coming so I hide behind something... either a bed or a table on which catering is served – the same way I hid before. The enemy comes and passes. At this point it occurs to me that it would probably be a good idea to call the Army or police for reinforcements. I reach into my pocket and discover my phone is missing... I had left it somewhere. This is terrifying, for now I am largely all alone in this terrorist situation with no contact with the outside world and therefore no prospect for cavalry. I wake up.