Driving.  A bridge.  Fireworks.  Going up an elevator.  An evil-looking man.  Some people talking, a complaint from a wife.  The man did something..."They cut off your hand for that."  Something happened to make me not trust him.  We were going to try and escape in a red convertible on the roof.  They wanted to kill him.  He got caught and I thought he was dead.  The elevator door closed.  I looked away, not wanting to see.  The door opened again and I was going to leave. A small, bloody red hand flopped out.  I felt better.  He was still alive.