Dream

I awoke with a start last week to a half-remembered dream.
More accurately, I vividly remembered one specific section of what seemed to be a longer dream.

What I recall felt very much like the final scene of a film. I'm wearing a crumpled but well-tailored suit that tells a story of suave sophistication giving way to increasing panic.
I'm sitting in an airport looking panicked and breathing heavily. I know - in that way in which dream logic just stitches events together - that I've escaped by the skin of my teeth from some kind of heist. I know I have failed to return with whatever it is I was sent to collect.
Suddenly a group of people burst in through the door and large men in suits like mine but crisp sit down around me. A woman - who may not look like the woman in charge of Dollhouse but emits that vibe of cold control - stands before us. She is my boss.
She expresses disappointment and demands I hold out my finger. She breaks it, violently, and bone spears out through the skin. the blood is very red against the neutral airport colour scheme and the black suits. I scream and it echoes back against me a few times.
Suddenly, the woman is caring and calm. She takes out a bandage and wraps it around my finger, tying it off gently.
"Thanks," I say quietly.
I think to myself that the bandage is cold and wet and that that is strange.
The woman leans in, her mouth close to my ear.
"You'll be fine, but you won't be going anywhere for a while," she whispers.
I'm confused, but she stands up and strides away. Everything descends into cheesy, glossy slow-motion as she twirls back around to deliver the film's necessary, final one-liner.
"Keep your distance boys. I've just given him swine flu."
She walks out and the camera recedes as if tied to her back. I see me sitting there exhausted as the colour drains from the faces around me.
I understand in that dream way that I will develop symptoms and be quarantined, and identified for my crimes before my release.