I am working with a woman and suddenly find myself drawn into some kind of a secret organization. At different times, I find myself on my knees and hands behind my head while rifles are aimed at me, at a large glass-topped lighted table full of documents, maps and photographs, and escorting people into closed-door meetings. At one stage, I meet my son, and taking his jacket. I feel the pockets and know that there's quite a bit money. I give the jacket a shake and he smiles as we hear the jingle of coins. I tell him to make sure to secure the pokets, because money has a way of jumping from one poket to another. We laugh and he takes care of this.
A man, obviously a soldier in thi organization, comes up to me and tells me that we are going on a trip. He has an intricate sketch in his hands which he asks me to roll up and bring along. We get into a very small car and drive through downtown Hamilton. At one point he manuvers the vehicle through a steep narrow ramp that's full of packed sharp ice. I do not think the car will make it, but somehow it does. We end up going up the stairs into a large open-concept loft office, where we are met by another woman. He hands her the rolled up drawing which she spreads onto a long table; after examining it, she adds another drawing to it, and I now see that it's a blueprint for a revolutionary building complex. I sense that this is for a new headquarters. He then says to her that this new proceedure of getting instructions directly from her is much easier than going through the chain of command that is now in place - so much more work can be done now. I somehow ense that certain protocols were bypassed here - conspiracy within conspiricy - but I can say nothing. Within this organization, I am still under guard and probation.
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