Thursday, October 16th, 2003

I’m on a military base trying to transport a prisoner of war to another location. I’m in a jeep with the prisoner and a sergeant. We come under aerial attack and have to stop the jeep. The sergeant is injured and I wave for others to come help us.

Later, I’m inside an office building when I see two drone planes fly through the city. They both get shot down and I watch as one of them floats slowly down to the ground, engulfed in flames. It turns out to contain scrolls with ancient writing on them.

I’m a part of an American military group in China and we try to take the scroll and decipher it. I’m in the office building and try to get into the room where they’re working with the scroll. A few officers outside tell me I can’t go in the room. I’m very insulted and mad and start making threats. I tell them they need me as a translator and I’ll just go tell the Chinese general that we’re not cooperating with them and are keeping the scroll for ourselves. One young officer, a black man with a tall flattop, won’t budge.

I run off to find the Chinese general and he follows close behind. I find the general and throw my arm around his shoulder (I have some relation to him, allowing me to be this familiar) and take him around to the American generals and higher-ups seated around some tables in the lobby. “Look,” I say in English, knowing the Chinese general doesn’t understand, “We’re going to uncover the secrets of the scroll and we’re not going to share.” I say all this for the sake of the Americans. “It doesn’t matter that those planes were shot down in your country. We go to one table where two young Jews are sitting looking at some sheets of paper with foreign writing. I continue haranguing them but they ignore me. I smack one of them on the head to get his attention.