Disclaimer: I don't own any of the matrix.
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Smith turned to see his old colleagues standing there, stiff and commanding. Rain running down their unflinching faces as they stared at him coldly from behind concealing shades.
Smith backed up a little, not knowing what to do, he was completely human, he had no chance against Johnson and Jackson, not a chance on earth. One of them stepped forward a few controlled paces, and stopped just a few steps in front of Smith. He looked at him from behind his glasses for a few moments, just staring, unmoving. Then he did something Smith did not expect. He removed his glasses, and placed them in his top jacket pocket and began to talk.
"It's been a while, hasn't it, Smith?."
"Indeed." he replied, wondering what ulterior motive Agent Johnson had inside his calculating A.I mind.
"It really is a shame that we aren't meeting on more.....friendly and co- operative circumstances. I have no urge to kill you, Smith....but I must, unless I'll turn out like you. But, I'm.....I'm going to give you a chance, I will give you five minutes to run and hide, then I shall kill you like anyone else...if I find you." He said, before putting his sunglasses back on, and stood there, waiting for Smith to run and use his five minutes as best as possible.
Smith turned sharply away from Johnson, and began to run as fast as his exhausted legs could possibly carry him through the thick darkness and harsh rains of the matrix night. As he ran, he heard the cocking of guns, and started to run faster, his breath lingering in front of him like mist in the air.
A memory came to him, it saw him and his then colleagues Brown and Jones chasing a rebel....Trinity, in a hotel. Smith thought of how many empty rooms that dilpidated hotel had, he smiled to himself slightly, and picked up the pace.
He swore he could hear running footsteps behind him, how long had it been?...two, maybe three minutes?. Surely his time could not be up yet.
He saw the hotel looming in front of him, the dingy sign with it's dulled colors and general rusted look of the shabby building that was supposedly a hotel.
He ran through the door, it swinging heavily and clumsily on it's rusted hinges, slamming against the wall with a loud yet hollow bang as he tore through the destroyed hallway and through the door, of Room 303.
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Smith turned to see his old colleagues standing there, stiff and commanding. Rain running down their unflinching faces as they stared at him coldly from behind concealing shades.
Smith backed up a little, not knowing what to do, he was completely human, he had no chance against Johnson and Jackson, not a chance on earth. One of them stepped forward a few controlled paces, and stopped just a few steps in front of Smith. He looked at him from behind his glasses for a few moments, just staring, unmoving. Then he did something Smith did not expect. He removed his glasses, and placed them in his top jacket pocket and began to talk.
"It's been a while, hasn't it, Smith?."
"Indeed." he replied, wondering what ulterior motive Agent Johnson had inside his calculating A.I mind.
"It really is a shame that we aren't meeting on more.....friendly and co- operative circumstances. I have no urge to kill you, Smith....but I must, unless I'll turn out like you. But, I'm.....I'm going to give you a chance, I will give you five minutes to run and hide, then I shall kill you like anyone else...if I find you." He said, before putting his sunglasses back on, and stood there, waiting for Smith to run and use his five minutes as best as possible.
Smith turned sharply away from Johnson, and began to run as fast as his exhausted legs could possibly carry him through the thick darkness and harsh rains of the matrix night. As he ran, he heard the cocking of guns, and started to run faster, his breath lingering in front of him like mist in the air.
A memory came to him, it saw him and his then colleagues Brown and Jones chasing a rebel....Trinity, in a hotel. Smith thought of how many empty rooms that dilpidated hotel had, he smiled to himself slightly, and picked up the pace.
He swore he could hear running footsteps behind him, how long had it been?...two, maybe three minutes?. Surely his time could not be up yet.
He saw the hotel looming in front of him, the dingy sign with it's dulled colors and general rusted look of the shabby building that was supposedly a hotel.
He ran through the door, it swinging heavily and clumsily on it's rusted hinges, slamming against the wall with a loud yet hollow bang as he tore through the destroyed hallway and through the door, of Room 303.