Mumbai had lost another 209 innocent office goers and over 700 had been injured, some maimed for life in the senseless name of religion.
As ZMI had their office in New Bombay, they did not suffer any direct casualties but the US Government immediately came up with a travel advisory, warning its citizens from travelling to India.
Peter and his team who were to reach India to fine tune and edit the animations were held back for a period of 3 months and the release of film was rescheduled for April 2007.
The travel alert was lifted by the US Government in November, once the terror threat had faded. It was then work as usual at the ZMI-DreamToons studio and animators were working 12 hour shifts to make up for lost time. The three months also gave the scripting team the time to relook at the work done so far and improvise.
Once the film was 90% complete, in January 2007 ZMI and DreamToons launched a massive worldwide merchandising drive.
ZMI already had the Vikram experience, but times and the scale had changed. Comic books named The Adventures of Susan Holt were created, translated and sold worldwide.
Susan Holt and other characters were plastered on every product from stationery, to school bags to tee shirts and sold off line as well as online.
Susan Holt websites were created in every prominent language and interaction with fans encouraged.
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Susan Holt dolls were positioned as a tough modern woman doll against the fragile Barbie in the stores.
Action figures of Susan and other characters from the film were also distributed in fast food outlets as part of the freebies for children.
Then a massive multi media advertising and publicity campaign never witnessed before was unleashed. As a result, Susan Holt became an icon and the Legend became the most anticipated animation adventure feature ever.
“I hope we have not over hyped the film,” Roy voiced his concern to Chika, “If people come expecting too much, they might get disappointed!”
“Don’t worry Roy,” Chika replied, “From what I have seen so far, the Legend will not just meet but exceed every expectation.”
Chika was right. The film released in April 2007 and the hard work and perfectionism showed. The audiences were wowed by the spatial 3D effects of the movie and the best part was none of the 3D effects seemed forced, thanks to Peter’s stress on spatial layout and angles right from the beginning.
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People came out of the movie with a smile after being enthralled by a two hour spectacle.
The characters, the dialogues, the songs, the story and the 3D effects together transported them to a world away from the hard reality of life.
The Legend had become a legend in a single day.
The story was the same in the rest of the world. In the USA, the first day collections crossed $40 million. It was the highest ever collection for an animated movie.
Indian animation and ZMI had entered the world league and how!
Accolades were pouring in for the ZMI team from all corners. Daily Times called the Legend a spell binding visual spectacle and a giant leap for Indian animation. Other newspapers and trade journals followed suit. With the stupendous success of the movie, merchandising simply sky rocketed.
And in the middle of all this, the ‘twerp’ Wayne D’Souza was signed on to write three more scripts for the Susan Holt franchise for an unheard of US$ 1 million.
Since Roy and Chika had their hands in too many pies, ZMI decided to bifurcate the production into sub-brands.
Ballu had no interest in animated films. His logic was old school “What is the point in producing a film if it doesn’t get you laid?”
So a sub-brand “ZMI Spotlight” was formed and he was put in charge. Spotlight would produce regular feature films. Another sub-brand “ZMI Core” was formed under Ali Azmi’s charge. Core would experiment with low budget alternative cinema.
But all financial powers were held by Chika and Roy with a battery of highly paid financial experts to guide them.
Work on the Susan Holt sequel, meanwhile, had started. Wayne was totally engrossed writing the first draft of the story. The brief was very clear. Retain important characters but take the
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story out of India to another exotic location. The mystery, suspense and the adventure elements should be continued and taken one step further.
Wayne began by scouring the internet to find exotic mysteries that could be extrapolated to create a Susan Holt adventure. He came across some such ‘workable’ mysteries and was in the process of building the story.
In the interim period, the ZMI-DreamToons studio was busy job working for DreamToons’ animated Hollywood productions.
Early 2008, the award functions began and as expected The Legend swept most of the awards in the animation category including the Best Animated Feature and Best Music Score.
Also Rita’s NGO was doing really well. ZMI’s success had found an echo in her organization. She was now rubbing shoulders and getting pledges from not just Bollywood actors but also world renowned Hollywood actors.
They had recently shifted to a sprawling, seven bedroom, duplex penthouse right next to the Royal Presidency Golf Course in Chembur.
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Roy had even presented her with a brand new Jaguar, which she took pride in driving herself, though they had a chauffeur.
Zasha was fifteen and in the X Grade. She was tall, athletic, pretty and the state junior tennis champion.
At last the blood, sweat, tears and years of torment was paying off. They had finally arrived!
Hence on the 3rd Anniversary of her NGO, Rita decided to call a few select friends and well- wishers for a ‘Sushi & Sake’ evening at the exclusive Wasabi Restaurant at the Taj Mahal Palace Hotel in Mumbai.
The party was planned for 22nd November, which was a Saturday. But just as the invitations were being printed, Rita’s best friend and fellow trustee Parul Kriplani requested her to postpone the get-together as she would be in Singapore attending her niece’s wedding on the same day.
Reservations were changed, but the venue and theme remained the same and the only available date in the coming week, 26th November, a Wednesday was booked.
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Since it was a weekday and people were working, the timing of the get-together was also postponed by an hour to 09:00 pm.
The guest list contained only Chika and Ballu from ZMI and the rest were the trustees and principal donors of her NGO.
Once guests were invited, Rita also called a couple of Page 3 journalists to join the party.
That evening, The Taj was at its hospitable best. Roy, Rita, Zasha and Ballu who had hitched a ride with them in the Jaguar arrived at the Hotel porch exactly at 9:15.
The valet sprang into action and greeted them with a cheerful smile and took the car away. As soon as they entered the lobby, a pretty guest relations officer immediately recognized Rita and told her that ten of her guests had already arrived and been seated at the Wasabi.
“I hope service has begun.” Asked Rita.
“Of course madam, you are dealing with the Taj,” she replied with a smile.
As they were about to enter the famous Harbour Bar (Wasabi was on the upper floor of the bar), they heard what sounded like fire crackers inside the lobby. Screams followed and when Roy looked behind he saw people running for their lives some of them bleeding profusely.
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Roy was immediately pulled in by a young staffer and they locked the door.
Unfortunately glass doors do not stop bullets, so the patrons, mostly hotel guests, who were quietly enjoying their drinks, were now screaming and panicking.
The staff immediately switched off the music and lights and the guests were herded into the Wasabi upstairs.
News had already reached Wasabi and when Rita and Roy reached their section, their guests were under the table trembling and cr
ying.
Just then, Roy got a call from Chika, he had just arrived at the Taj and found out what was happening. Police had already cordoned off the area and nobody was being allowed inside.
“It is a major terrorist attack,” he informed Roy “Be very careful these men are highly trained and armed. They will try to kill as many as possible.”
“How the fuck is it possible? This is Mumbai for God’s sake!” Screamed Roy back into the phone over the din.
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“It seems, around ten to twelve of them has entered Mumbai. There is gunfire going on in V.T. Station, The Oberoi Trident and some other places. They will target the restaurants first, get out of there to a safer place.”
The Taj staffers, many of them in their twenties had the same idea. The moved the crowd to the large banquet hall called Chambers. There was a continuous rattle of gunfire, then BOOM, the first grenade went off, then another and another.
“Stay put,” the staff implored, “the security forces will soon overcome the terrorists and come and get us.”
But the terrorists seemed to be holding on. Then came the news that the sixth floor was on fire.
“They will burn the whole hotel down. We are gonna die!” sobbed an elderly woman.
There were under siege for almost two hours now. There were eight women in their group including Rita and Zasha.
“Don’t worry dear, we will be safe,” Roy consoled Zasha.
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“As long as you are around, I will never be worried Dad,” Zasha replied bravely.
Then Chika called, “I have bad news. They have killed Hemant Karkare, the Head of Anti-Terrorism Squad along with Additional Commissioner Ashok Kamte and Senior Inspector Vijay Salaskar in an ambush near Cama Hospital.”
“What about the Taj? Are the forces planning to storm the hotel?”
“Not yet,” replied Chika, “the terrorists are well prepared and are hurling grenades at will. They have even set fire to the 6th floor. They are searching the hotel systematically. Don’t try to exit from the lobby, they have it covered.”
It was past midnight and shooting and explosions continued. Roy realized that waiting for the security forces may not be so prudent after all. If the security forces do not kill the terrorists, it would be a matter of time that the guests hiding in the Chambers were compromised.
Roy had an idea. He headed towards the service exit of the Chambers followed by Rita, Zasha, Ballu, their ten guests and some others.
He asked them to wait at the exit while he ran up the stairs and returned after 5 excruciating minutes.
“I found an open room on the third floor,” he said, “If we can make a rope by bed sheets and curtains we could climb down from the window. It is a 35 feet drop and we should be able climb down.”
Trying to make as little noise as possible, they climbed the stairs and made it to open room on the 3rd floor.
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Immediately, Roy stripped the bed sheets and curtains and started tying them together.
“We are gonna need more bed sheets” Roy realized and gestured to Ballu, “Ballu can you get some more while I make knots in between to grip while climbing down? I think I saw a housekeeping trolley in the hallway.”
“I am on it, Roy,” said Ballu and sneaked out of the room.
Ten minutes had passed, but there was no sign of Ballu and the rattle of AK 47 gunfire was getting closer. Another five minutes later, Roy got a call from Chika. He told him that the terrorists were searching room by room for occupants. Then he told him that he had just seen Ballu outside.
“I thought he was trapped in the same room as you. How did he manage to escape?”
“Damn!” Roy swore and went out to get the bed linen himself. Just as he sneaked into the lobby the ceiling and the walls reverberated, then he heard the deafening explosion.
‘Jesus, they are already on the fourth floor,’ thought Roy as he rushed to the housekeeping trolley.
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When he reached the trolley he realized how Ballu had escaped. The room alongside was open and the occupants had made a similar ropeway and escaped.
Instead of bothering with the linen, Roy ran inside and untied the ready rope from the bed post it was tied to and rushed to their room.
There he secured one end to the heavy teak bed post and threw the rope down.
“Women first,” he barked, “and only two at a time. The linen won’t bear more weight.”
As they began their descent, Roy and the men pushed the heavy teak wood bureau table against the door. Now they could even hear the terrorists shout instructions to each other!
There were four of them remaining when the terrorists started pounding on the door.
“The three of you … climb down,” Roy ordered.
But he was right. The linen couldn’t take the weight and started ripping near the bed post. Just before it ripped off, Roy rolled the linen on his right hand and held on bracing against the wall of the window.
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The terrorists had shot the lock and were now pushing against the heavy bureau. He could feel the tension release on his hand as the three men touched earth.
Roy knew that they would break in any minute. Desperately he tied the linen back on to the bed post but as soon as he had climbed on the window, the terrorists broke in.
Roy turned around to face them. One of them was of medium height, fair and powerfully built and the other was tall, wiry and pockmarked.
They locked eyes for a few seconds then the tall one fired a volley at Roy, the impact of the bullets of the powerful assault weapon throwing him up in the air before he descended.
Roy felt that he was flying for an eternity in slow motion before he crashed into the tiled driveway below.
Chika sat in his veranda in the dark. It had been a week since Roy’s funeral but he could feel his jovial presence in the room.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Roy falling out of the window. He heard himself scream out Roy’s name and saw himself run towards the fallen body like a dream. The paramedics had then rushed in and carted him into the waiting ambulance and to Jaslok Hospital, not too far away.
“His spine is broken and he has 3 bullets in him, one of them is lodged in his kidney. He is too weak to operate. It is only his will that is keeping him alive,” the surgeon told Chika.
“Is he conscious? Can we see him?” Chika asked.
“Yes, please spend as much time that you can spend with him. We are administering painkillers to help him manage the pain.”
Chika sat on the hospital bed and held his best friend’s hand.
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“Have the bastards been killed?” Roy mumbled.
“Not yet,” replied Chika, “But they will be soon.”
“I refuse to die, till those bastards are killed.” Roy managed a feeble smile.
“Shut up Roy, we still have movies to make…” Chika smiled back, wiping a tear that had snuck out.
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