Disclaimer: First of all, I do not own anything to do with the matrix and
blah. I wish I did, but I don't-the credit goes to Mr. Wachowski and the
other Mr. Wachowski. This is simply a retelling of the movie in novel form,
with some extra scenes and jazz. This is also my first rewriting of
something, and the first fic I plan to compete ((Not that I have quit on my
others! Just taking a break. A long break.)) Have fun, and reviews would be
nice, especially if they contain constructive criticism!
Author's Note: To write this, I was looking at an older script, and some alterations have been made since then. There have been some name changes ((such as Anthony to Choi)), although I have fixed those. I've gone through both the movie and the script and combined the dialogue, so it may be a bit different. So, if you're going to flame me, please don't flame because of that.
Chapter One: Without Boundaries
Take a good look at your phone. No, excuse me, don't just look at it- look into it. Look into its purpose. Transmission. Without communication, existence would be meaningless. Billions of words, meanings, finding their way into a minuscule cord to travel as far as need be. Programs running the cord, foreign integers and characters, building a network of communication and existence throughout the world. And yet more integers and characters, more meanings, infinitesimal within those visible.
To the average individual, none of this is thought of, but as a woman dialed a number on her cell phone, it was all she saw.
"Hello?" She spoke.
"Hello," was the reply, from a man.
"I'm inside. Anything to report?" She sounded slightly urgent, not as if she were in a hurry, but in a reminiscent tone of worry
The man on the phone hesitated for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "Let's see. Target left work at 5:01 PM. He caught the northbound Howard line. Got off at Sheridan. Stopped at 7-11. Purchased six-pack of beer and a box of Captain Crunch. Returned home."
"All right, you're relieved. Use the usual exit."
"Do you know when we're going to make contact?" "Soon."
"Is everything in place?"
"You aren't s'possed to relieve me."
"I know, but I felt like taking a shift."
"You like him, doncha? You like watching him."
"Don't be ridiculous."
"We're gonna kill him, you understand that?!"
"Morpheus believes he is the one."
"Just between you and me, you don't really believe it, do you?" The man voice picked up a cynical tone. "You don't really believe that this guy is the one?"
"I think Morpheus believes he is."
"I know he does, I've heard it enough from him; but what about you?"
"I think Morpheus knows things that I don't."
"Yeah, but if he's wrong-"
A click sounded, deep in the makeup of the hard line. Those meanings, the numbers and letters, the communication between the two, had been broken. Just for a little while.
"Shh. Did you hear that?" The woman asked.
"Hear what?"
"Are you sure this line is clean?"
"Yeah, of course I'm sure."
"I better go."
"Yeah, right. See you on the other side."
The woman hung up her phone, and turned to look behind her. No one there; good. She continued up the street, her black boots barely scraping the sidewalk. She was clad in leather from head to toe, blending perfectly with the night around her. Unfortunately, all nights have their delusions.
She walked along softly, contemplating her mission. Streetlights shone; she would avoid them. Now, as for the target.what was the area code? Tank had programmed her something, but she could not remember offhand. She stopped for a moment and leaned against a brick wall. Her eyes laid shut behind her sunglasses as she focus, filing through the cabinets of her mind. Oh, yes. She was near. Just a little while that way-
Sirens interrupted her stream of thought. Wails pierced the city, blaring through the streets and fading into the alleyways. At the turn of a corner, she approached an abandoned hotel. Good, she said silently; perhaps it would be of shelter. There was a side staircase, which would provide a better entrance. Three flights were conquered in only a few leaps. She silently pried open the door at the top and began to peek around the corner. A few inches; no one. A few more; no one. A few more-
Gunfire erupted through the placid night, but the woman did not jump. She drew two pistols and fell back around the door. Her attackers-a police force, apparently-approached, but their skill was nowhere near that of the woman. She jumped around the corner, flipping and shooting all at once. One down, two down, three. But the fourth; was there a fourth? She tried to remember, but it had been a blur. Then, suddenly, hands gripped her neck and a gun was at her head. She pulled her heel up, attempting to catch her aggressor in the crotch, but only hit air. She pulled her fist back for a face hit, but again there was nothing.
"Trinity. It's been a while."
*****
On the ground, a black sedan crawled along the street, silent and enigmatic. It sneaked up into a pack of squad cars, and it would have been invisible among the sirens and lights if it had not been of such importance. The car pulled up at the curb, but the door was opening even before it stopped moving. Two men hopped out, in a hurry although they did not show it. Dark suits fell over their shoulders, and they were clad in sunglasses despite the late hour.
"Lieutenant?" One of the men, the balder of the two, spoke to the head of the police force.
The Lieutenant sighed. Did they not think that his force could handle the job on their own? Or was he going to be reprimanded for some reason? He quickly examined the two men, and noticed cords snaking their way into their suits. He looked at their ears and saw headphones. "Oh, shit." he muttered to himself. Secret service agents. They were hardwired.
The agent spoke in a deep, calm, almost cynical tone. "Lieutenant, you were given specific orders-"
Damn; he was going to be told off. "I'm just doing my job," he replied, in a tone of severe disrespect. "You gimme that Juris-my dick-tion and you can cram it up your ass."
A smirk flickered across the agent's face. "The orders were for your protection."
The Lieutenant laughed. What was this?! "I think we can handle one little girl, thank you-hey, wait, my men are up there! I already sent two units, they're bringing her down now--" The agents had exchanged a nod before starting off to the hotel.
"No, lieutenant," the agent spoke, cutting him off. "By now, your men are already dead."
*****
Back in the hotel, Trinity was inwardly flushed with embarrassment. She was tied to a chair, hands behind her back. She had never allowed herself in this position before; she was too good. Agents, however, were the only 'people' in her category of combat.
"Trinity, it's been a while," he had said.
A while? She had thought. She turned around once the grip on her throat had relaxed, to see a suited man standing behind her.
Run, her instincts had told her. Run, it's an agent, you can't do a thing, he'll kill you-
"Nice to see you again."
"I've never met you before in my life."
He laughed and kicked hard, nailing Trinity in the stomach. She had grunted and tried to rise, but was immediately pinned to the floor by his foot.
"Sure, you haven't. Excuse me." He pulled her up by the neck of her shirt and tossed her across the floor. She'd resisted the urge to shout, and remained still.
The agent glanced at a chair in the corner, and then at Trinity. In moments, her wrists were bound together, and she felt vulnerable. She was going to die, she was going to die.
A sharp laugh emerged from the agent. "They'll come for you now, I'm sure they will." He exited the room, leaving the door ajar.
Thus, remembering, her embarrassment left her in a flourish. She was alone; what had he meant to do? But Trinity began to worry; this was too simple, too easy.
He means for the others to come and rescue her? She laughed, as her worry left again. They would never come, when there were agents. Her life was not so valuable, but she did not mind; she would rather die than have the whole crew perish.
Throughout her thoughts, Trinity's wounds ached on. She concentrated, speaking to herself. "Trinity, you're fine, you're fine, these aren't real, you're okay, get up. Get up."
As her thoughts commanded, Trinity broke the bounds and rose. At the first sign of movement, yet another police squad entered the room, firing wildly. The largest of the cops lacked a gun, but he flicked out a pair of handcuffs; he'd done this before, so many times. He knew they had her. He held up a hand and the firing ceased. Then, he held out the cuffs and grabbed at Trinity's wrists. She snatched away, moving so inhumanly fast, it almost didn't register. The moment the cop blinked, her hand snapped up against his nose. Blood erupted and she hit again, jamming his nose back into his skull, which collapsed. The cop was dead before he even hit the ground.
The other cops broke out of a daze. One drew his pistol and started firing, but Trinity dodged every bullet. In between shots, she grabbed his wrist, snapped it, and redirected the gun towards one of his allies. A head exploded, and more blood flew through the air.
Trinity jumped smoothly, and reverted into a roundhouse kick. She kicked away another gun; just one man left. He screamed in panic, but his scream was cut off as Trinity jumped up and crushed his windpipe with another kick. She turned around and looked at the four lifeless bodies.
"Shit."
Author's Note: To write this, I was looking at an older script, and some alterations have been made since then. There have been some name changes ((such as Anthony to Choi)), although I have fixed those. I've gone through both the movie and the script and combined the dialogue, so it may be a bit different. So, if you're going to flame me, please don't flame because of that.
Chapter One: Without Boundaries
Take a good look at your phone. No, excuse me, don't just look at it- look into it. Look into its purpose. Transmission. Without communication, existence would be meaningless. Billions of words, meanings, finding their way into a minuscule cord to travel as far as need be. Programs running the cord, foreign integers and characters, building a network of communication and existence throughout the world. And yet more integers and characters, more meanings, infinitesimal within those visible.
To the average individual, none of this is thought of, but as a woman dialed a number on her cell phone, it was all she saw.
"Hello?" She spoke.
"Hello," was the reply, from a man.
"I'm inside. Anything to report?" She sounded slightly urgent, not as if she were in a hurry, but in a reminiscent tone of worry
The man on the phone hesitated for a moment, collecting his thoughts. "Let's see. Target left work at 5:01 PM. He caught the northbound Howard line. Got off at Sheridan. Stopped at 7-11. Purchased six-pack of beer and a box of Captain Crunch. Returned home."
"All right, you're relieved. Use the usual exit."
"Do you know when we're going to make contact?" "Soon."
"Is everything in place?"
"You aren't s'possed to relieve me."
"I know, but I felt like taking a shift."
"You like him, doncha? You like watching him."
"Don't be ridiculous."
"We're gonna kill him, you understand that?!"
"Morpheus believes he is the one."
"Just between you and me, you don't really believe it, do you?" The man voice picked up a cynical tone. "You don't really believe that this guy is the one?"
"I think Morpheus believes he is."
"I know he does, I've heard it enough from him; but what about you?"
"I think Morpheus knows things that I don't."
"Yeah, but if he's wrong-"
A click sounded, deep in the makeup of the hard line. Those meanings, the numbers and letters, the communication between the two, had been broken. Just for a little while.
"Shh. Did you hear that?" The woman asked.
"Hear what?"
"Are you sure this line is clean?"
"Yeah, of course I'm sure."
"I better go."
"Yeah, right. See you on the other side."
The woman hung up her phone, and turned to look behind her. No one there; good. She continued up the street, her black boots barely scraping the sidewalk. She was clad in leather from head to toe, blending perfectly with the night around her. Unfortunately, all nights have their delusions.
She walked along softly, contemplating her mission. Streetlights shone; she would avoid them. Now, as for the target.what was the area code? Tank had programmed her something, but she could not remember offhand. She stopped for a moment and leaned against a brick wall. Her eyes laid shut behind her sunglasses as she focus, filing through the cabinets of her mind. Oh, yes. She was near. Just a little while that way-
Sirens interrupted her stream of thought. Wails pierced the city, blaring through the streets and fading into the alleyways. At the turn of a corner, she approached an abandoned hotel. Good, she said silently; perhaps it would be of shelter. There was a side staircase, which would provide a better entrance. Three flights were conquered in only a few leaps. She silently pried open the door at the top and began to peek around the corner. A few inches; no one. A few more; no one. A few more-
Gunfire erupted through the placid night, but the woman did not jump. She drew two pistols and fell back around the door. Her attackers-a police force, apparently-approached, but their skill was nowhere near that of the woman. She jumped around the corner, flipping and shooting all at once. One down, two down, three. But the fourth; was there a fourth? She tried to remember, but it had been a blur. Then, suddenly, hands gripped her neck and a gun was at her head. She pulled her heel up, attempting to catch her aggressor in the crotch, but only hit air. She pulled her fist back for a face hit, but again there was nothing.
"Trinity. It's been a while."
*****
On the ground, a black sedan crawled along the street, silent and enigmatic. It sneaked up into a pack of squad cars, and it would have been invisible among the sirens and lights if it had not been of such importance. The car pulled up at the curb, but the door was opening even before it stopped moving. Two men hopped out, in a hurry although they did not show it. Dark suits fell over their shoulders, and they were clad in sunglasses despite the late hour.
"Lieutenant?" One of the men, the balder of the two, spoke to the head of the police force.
The Lieutenant sighed. Did they not think that his force could handle the job on their own? Or was he going to be reprimanded for some reason? He quickly examined the two men, and noticed cords snaking their way into their suits. He looked at their ears and saw headphones. "Oh, shit." he muttered to himself. Secret service agents. They were hardwired.
The agent spoke in a deep, calm, almost cynical tone. "Lieutenant, you were given specific orders-"
Damn; he was going to be told off. "I'm just doing my job," he replied, in a tone of severe disrespect. "You gimme that Juris-my dick-tion and you can cram it up your ass."
A smirk flickered across the agent's face. "The orders were for your protection."
The Lieutenant laughed. What was this?! "I think we can handle one little girl, thank you-hey, wait, my men are up there! I already sent two units, they're bringing her down now--" The agents had exchanged a nod before starting off to the hotel.
"No, lieutenant," the agent spoke, cutting him off. "By now, your men are already dead."
*****
Back in the hotel, Trinity was inwardly flushed with embarrassment. She was tied to a chair, hands behind her back. She had never allowed herself in this position before; she was too good. Agents, however, were the only 'people' in her category of combat.
"Trinity, it's been a while," he had said.
A while? She had thought. She turned around once the grip on her throat had relaxed, to see a suited man standing behind her.
Run, her instincts had told her. Run, it's an agent, you can't do a thing, he'll kill you-
"Nice to see you again."
"I've never met you before in my life."
He laughed and kicked hard, nailing Trinity in the stomach. She had grunted and tried to rise, but was immediately pinned to the floor by his foot.
"Sure, you haven't. Excuse me." He pulled her up by the neck of her shirt and tossed her across the floor. She'd resisted the urge to shout, and remained still.
The agent glanced at a chair in the corner, and then at Trinity. In moments, her wrists were bound together, and she felt vulnerable. She was going to die, she was going to die.
A sharp laugh emerged from the agent. "They'll come for you now, I'm sure they will." He exited the room, leaving the door ajar.
Thus, remembering, her embarrassment left her in a flourish. She was alone; what had he meant to do? But Trinity began to worry; this was too simple, too easy.
He means for the others to come and rescue her? She laughed, as her worry left again. They would never come, when there were agents. Her life was not so valuable, but she did not mind; she would rather die than have the whole crew perish.
Throughout her thoughts, Trinity's wounds ached on. She concentrated, speaking to herself. "Trinity, you're fine, you're fine, these aren't real, you're okay, get up. Get up."
As her thoughts commanded, Trinity broke the bounds and rose. At the first sign of movement, yet another police squad entered the room, firing wildly. The largest of the cops lacked a gun, but he flicked out a pair of handcuffs; he'd done this before, so many times. He knew they had her. He held up a hand and the firing ceased. Then, he held out the cuffs and grabbed at Trinity's wrists. She snatched away, moving so inhumanly fast, it almost didn't register. The moment the cop blinked, her hand snapped up against his nose. Blood erupted and she hit again, jamming his nose back into his skull, which collapsed. The cop was dead before he even hit the ground.
The other cops broke out of a daze. One drew his pistol and started firing, but Trinity dodged every bullet. In between shots, she grabbed his wrist, snapped it, and redirected the gun towards one of his allies. A head exploded, and more blood flew through the air.
Trinity jumped smoothly, and reverted into a roundhouse kick. She kicked away another gun; just one man left. He screamed in panic, but his scream was cut off as Trinity jumped up and crushed his windpipe with another kick. She turned around and looked at the four lifeless bodies.
"Shit."
