Original MatriX Script Part 1
MAN (Voice Over.): Hello?
Data now slashes across the screen, information flashing faster than we read.
SCREEN: Call trans opt: received. 2-19-96 13:24:18 REC:Log>
WOMAN (V.O.): I'm inside. Anything to report?
We listen to the phone conversation as though we were on a third line. The man's name is CYPHER. The woman, TRINITY.
CYPHER (V.O.): Let's see. Target left work at 5:01 PM.
SCREEN: Trace program: running.
The entire screen fills with racing columns of numbers. Shimmering like green-electric rivets, they rush at a 10-digit phone number in the top corner.
CYPHER (V.O.): He caught the northbound Howard line. Got off at Sheridan. Stopped at 7-11. Purchased sixpack of beer and a box of Captain Crunch. Returned home.
The area code is identified. The first three numbers suddenly fixed, leaving only seven flowing columns. We begin MOVING TOWARD the screen, CLOSING IN as each digit is matched, one by one, snapping into place like the wheels of a slot machine.
TRINITY (V.O.): All right, you're relieved. Use the usual exit.
CYPHER (V.O.): Do you know when we're going to make contact?
Only two thin digits left.
CYPHER (V.O.): Just between you and me, you don't believe it, do you? You don't believe this guy is the one?
TRINITY (V.O.): I think Morpheus believes he is.
CYPHER (V.O.): I know. But what about you?
TRINITY (V.O.): I think Morpheus knows things that I don't.
CYPHER (V.O.): Yeah, but if he's wrong --
TRINITY (V.O.): Did you hear that?
CYPHER (V.O.): Hear what?
SCREEN: Trace complete. Call origin: #312-555-0690
TRINITY (V.O.): Are you sure this line is clean?
CYPHER (V.O.): Yeah, course I'm sure.
We MOVE STILL CLOSER, the ELECTRIC HUM of the green numbers GROWING INTO an OMINOUS ROAR.
TRINITY (V.O.): I better go.
CYPHER (V.O.): Yeah. Right. See you on the other side.
She hangs up as we PASS THROUGH the numbers, entering the netherworld of the computer screen. Where gradually the sound of a police radio grows around us.
RADIO (V.O.): Attention all units. Attention all units.
Suddenly, a flashlight cuts open the darkness and we find ourselves in --
INSIDE CHASE HOTEL - NIGHT - The hotel was abandoned after a fire licked its way across the polyester carpeting, destroying several rooms as it spooled soot up the walls and ceiling leaving patterns of permanent shadow. We FOLLOW four armed POLICE officers using flashlights as they creep down the blackened hall and ready themselves on either side of room 303. The biggest of them violently kicks in the door -- The other cops pour in behind him, guns thrust before them.
BIG COP: Police! Freeze!
The room is almost devoid of furniture. There is a foldup table and chair with a phone, a modern, and a powerbook computer. The only light in the room is the glow of the computer. Sitting there, her hands still on the keyboard, is TRINITY; a woman in black leather.
BIG COP: Get your hands behind your head!
BIG COP: Hands behind your head! Now! Do it!
She slowly puts her hands behind her head.
OUTSIDE CHASE HOTEL - NIGHT - A black sedan with tinted windows glides in through the police cruisers. AGENT SMITH and AGENT BROWN get out of the car. They wear dark suits and sunglasses even at night. They are also always hardwired; small Secret Service earphones in one ear, its cord coiling back into their shirt collars.
AGENT SMITH: Lieutenant?
LIEUTENANT: Oh shit.
AGENT SMITH: Lieutenant, you were given specific orders --
LIEUTENANT: I'm just doing my job. You gimme that Juris-my- dick-tion and you can cram it up your ass.
AGENT SMITH: The orders were for your protection.
The Lieutenant laughs.
LIEUTENANT: I think we can handle one little girl.
Agent Smith nods to Agent Brown as they start toward the hotel.
© 2001-2008 N. Franken