Had a dream I was with a group of various family members in a car, some have passed on.  I noticed we couldn't fit in the car as we were all inside.  It was a small European or South American street—I imagine—or village, where many people were walking around.  The police told us we all had to get out and stand back with all the others.  Apparently, something was going down.  I was very frustated and annoyed because I was late for work, and I went around a group of people to argue with the police, when we all realized war was about to break out.  

They sent everyone into a small decrepit warehouse with old wooden tables, while they guarded the street.  Through some windows I could see the African insurgents approaching, maybe Somalians, some teenagers and kids.  Don't ask me why they were African kids.

In one alley there were three young African insurgents near a couple subarban trash cans with AK-47s.    A shoot-out ensued with them vs. the police in front of our shady warehouse, and in two shots, I saw one policeman take out the tallest boy in front of the trash.  It was the first time I'd seen someone shot.  The sound he made as the first bullet hit his chest then dropped dead.  They took out that small group.  To the right, a crowd of insurgents were approaching from the street, but all of a sudden a helicopter approached and dropped low, and took out that crowd, then made some real nimble manuevers within the buildings and street, and I was impressed.  Then the helicopter was swerving and spinning too erratically, like an out of control ice-skater, and I heard someone say, You gotta be kidding me! and the helicopter crashed into our warehouse.

Things started falling from the ceiling and I didn't know if I should get under those tables.

After a while, we heard the gunshots cease, and things appeared to calm down.  I was lying on my side, next to the table with my arm supporting my head like I was lounging, and there was a security guard who's not a cop, like for a department store in a ghetto part of town.  He was sitting near me with his arms across his knees and he tossed a grenade to his female partner, who was standing over him, like he was ashamed.  She tossed it back but he didn't reach for it, and it came to me.  

I picked it up, but didn't know if it had its pin.  I was fearful and anxious, and I went outside to the crowd of police to show them.  I didn't know if it was going to blow, I thought they could handle it.  Someone came up to examine it and took out a paperclip and started unfolding it.

What should I do?  I beseeched the crowd, as they seemed to be shrinking back.

They go, Throw it!

What?  Where? Over there?  There might be people there!

They start counting down from ten, as if to warn me.

As they get to five, I start remembering dreams in which I'm anxious about throwing a ball or my arms or legs going out when in a physical altercation.

5...

4...

3...At 3, the grenade falls out of my hands, and I look at it and quickly look back and wait for impact.

2,

1!

I open my eyes and kind of smile.  Then sigh.   What the fuck!

My baby's name is Baby Babe

She takes the morning train,

She works from night to day,

She takes the morning train,

To find me awaitin

I cooks the morning ham

I toil scramblin her eggs,

I use my secret ways

and garnish and garnsih

Cause my baby's coming home again,

She takes the morning train,

She works from night to day

She takes the morning train

To find me awaitin for her!