A Prison Within a Prison
TAG: MORPHEUS
CONTINUED FROM HERE
Smith and the twelve other Agents had "borrowed" four NYPD police cars from outside the Grand Central Terminal and driven through downtown, all sirens blaring. Although the call from Agent Pace had caught him slightly off guard, Agent Smith had been waiting and preparing for that moment for two weeks now. And as the convoy reached the location, greeted by two squads of the National Guard, dispatched there on Smith's request, a grin appeared on his face.
The newly-rebuilt 7 World Trade Center was the most secure building in New York. It had a spectacular, fully blast-resistant glass lobby installation, the whole building was enclosed in a uniquely-designed shell, and the entry wall was composed of complicated laminated glass pieces reinforced by stainless-steel cables. Top to bottom, 7 WTC was packed with the latest in security technology. The new building was still not open to tenants or to the public, and apart from the building security personnel and construction workers, it was still mostly empty, especially as the evening started.
Swiftly led inside the building under the threatening aim of several pistols and automatic rifles, Morpheus was escorted four floors down through a complex maze of stairs and password-protected blast doors. Six Agents and one 10-soldier squad followed Smith and Morpheus all the way to a vault which door bore the logo of the financial services company American Express.
Smith had turned the yet-unused vault into a cell with, in the middle, what looked like an austere dentist chair. The six Agents and three soldiers entered with Smith and Morpheus, still keeping the latter at gunpoint, ready to shoot on Smith's order. As the Agents started to pin Morpheus down onto the half-reclined chair using titanium alloy-made shackles, buckles and cuffs, Smith stood aside, with his evil grin back on his face.
"Morpheus, Morpheus, Morpheus. Here you are. Again. A prison within a prison."
CONTINUED FROM HERE
Smith and the twelve other Agents had "borrowed" four NYPD police cars from outside the Grand Central Terminal and driven through downtown, all sirens blaring. Although the call from Agent Pace had caught him slightly off guard, Agent Smith had been waiting and preparing for that moment for two weeks now. And as the convoy reached the location, greeted by two squads of the National Guard, dispatched there on Smith's request, a grin appeared on his face.
The newly-rebuilt 7 World Trade Center was the most secure building in New York. It had a spectacular, fully blast-resistant glass lobby installation, the whole building was enclosed in a uniquely-designed shell, and the entry wall was composed of complicated laminated glass pieces reinforced by stainless-steel cables. Top to bottom, 7 WTC was packed with the latest in security technology. The new building was still not open to tenants or to the public, and apart from the building security personnel and construction workers, it was still mostly empty, especially as the evening started.
Swiftly led inside the building under the threatening aim of several pistols and automatic rifles, Morpheus was escorted four floors down through a complex maze of stairs and password-protected blast doors. Six Agents and one 10-soldier squad followed Smith and Morpheus all the way to a vault which door bore the logo of the financial services company American Express.
Smith had turned the yet-unused vault into a cell with, in the middle, what looked like an austere dentist chair. The six Agents and three soldiers entered with Smith and Morpheus, still keeping the latter at gunpoint, ready to shoot on Smith's order. As the Agents started to pin Morpheus down onto the half-reclined chair using titanium alloy-made shackles, buckles and cuffs, Smith stood aside, with his evil grin back on his face.
"Morpheus, Morpheus, Morpheus. Here you are. Again. A prison within a prison."