Original MatriX Script Part 6
He climbs up onto the window ledge. Hanging onto the frame, he steps onto the small ledge. The scaffold seems even farther away.
NEO: I'm going to die.
The WIND suddenly BLASTS up the face of the building, knocking Neo off balance. Recoiling, he clings harder to the frame, and the phone falls out of his hand. He watches as it is swallowed by the distance beneath him.
NEO: This is insane. I can't do this! Forget it!
He climbs back into the office just as a cop opens the door.
NEO: I didn't do anything!
EXT. SKYSCRAPER - The agents lead a handcuffed Neo out of the revolving doors, forcing his head down as they push him into the dark sedan. Trinity watches in the rear view mirror of her motorcycle.
INT. INTERROGATION ROOM - CLOSE ON CAMERA MONITOR - A wide angle view of a white room, where Neo is sitting at a table alone.
We MOVE INTO the monitor, ENTERING the room as if the monitor were a window. At the same moment, the door opens and the agents enter. Smith sits down across from Neo. A thick manila envelope slaps down on the table between them. Neo glances at the name on the file: "Anderson, Thomas A."
AGENT SMITH: As you can see, we've had our eye on you for some time now, Mr.Anderson.
He opens the file. Paper rattle marks the silence as he flips several pages. Neo cannot tell if he is looking at the file or at him.
AGENT SMITH: It seems that you have been living two lives. In one life, you are Thomas A. Anderson, program writer for a respectable software company. You have a social security number, you pay your taxes and you help your land lady carry out her garbage.
The pages continue to turn.
AGENT SMITH: The other life is lived in computers where you go by the hacker alias Neo, and are guilty of virtually every computer crime we have a law for, including the unauthorized use of the D.M.V. system for the removal of automobile boots.
Neo feels himself sinking into a pit of shit.
AGENT SMITH: One of these,lives has a future. One of them does not.
AGENT SMITH: I'm going to be as forthcoming as I can be, Mr. Anderson. You are here because we need your help.
He removes his sunglasses; his eyes are an unnatural iceblue.
AGENT SMITH: We know that you have been contacted by a certain individual. A man who calls himself Morpheus. Whatever you think you know about this man is irrelevant to the fact that he is wanted for acts of terrorism in more countries than any other man in the world. He is considered by many authorities to be the most dangerous man alive.
He leans closer.
AGENT SMITH: My colleagues believe that I am wasting my time with you, but I believe you want to do the right thing. It is obvious that you are an intelligent man, Mr. Anderson, and that you are interested in the future. That is why I believe you are ready to put your past mistakes behind you and get on with your life.
Neo tries to match his stare.
AGENT SMITH: We are willing to wipe the slate clean, to give you a fresh start and all we are asking in return is your cooperation in bringing a known terrorist to justice.
Neo nods to himself.
NEO: Yeah. Wow. That sounds like a real good deal. But I think I have a better one. How about I give you the finger --
NEO: And you can cram that file up your Secret Service sphincter.
Agent Smith puts his glasses back on.
AGENT SMITH: You disappoint me, Mr. Anderson.
NEO: You ain't seen nothing yet.
AGENT SMITH: The irony of your situation is that you have no choice.
NEO: You can't scare me with this Gestapo crap. I know my rights. I want my phone call.
Agent Smith smiles.
AGENT SMITH: And tell me, Mr. Anderson, what good is a phone call if you are unable to speak?
The question unnerves Neo and strangely, he begins to feel the muscles in his jaw tighten. The standing agents snicker, watching Neo's confusion grow into panic. Neo feels his lips grow soft and sticky as they slowly seal shut, melding into each other until all trace of his mouth is gone. Wild with fear, he lunges for the door but the agents restrain him holding him in the chair.
AGENT SMITH: You are going to help us, Mr. Anderson, whether you want to or not.
© 2001-2008 N. Franken