

PIRATES OF BOLLYWOOD

Dr. Kalyan C. Kankanala

© Copyright 2014 by Dr. Kalyan C. Kankanala

Smashwords Edition

Dr. Kalyan C. Kankanala

Dr. Kalyan is a storyteller and scribbler from Bangalore, India. He writes legal thrillers, crime mysteries and short stories. All his novels have blind protagonists and are well researched.

Professionally, Dr. Kalyan is an Intellectual Property Attorney. He works extensively with technology driven companies, film/music production houses and creative upstarts. Dr. Kalyan also teaches at premier institutes such as IIM, Bangalore and NLSIU, Bangalore. He earlier served as the national expert on IP for United Nations Industrial Development Organization, and was the member of animal ethics committee of Astra Zeneca.

PRAISES FOR AUTHOR'S WORK

" ... This copyright law fiction has project piracy as its lodestar, and this book indeed has all the makings of (dare I say) a Bollywood Masala movie, albeit with the only difference that the author casts his mojo by interweaving the legal aspects of the copyright law debate within its theatrical setting of Bollywood in Mumbai..."

-Shalini Bengani, IP Kat

(For Pirates of Bollywood)

"A blind lawyer, a virus outbreak, a dog that dreams and a patent infringement case. Dr. Kalyan Kankanala's debut fiction, Road Humps and Sidewalks: The Path less travelled is an engrossing fast-paced legal thriller"

\- The Hindu

(For Road Humps and Sidewalks – Republished as Epidemic)

"This ... IP law thriller has all the hallmarks of a winner; corporate espionage, attempted kidnapping, foiled hits, court room romance, a corrupt Chief Justice and a David v Goliath battle over patents for a life-saving drug. I read it in one sitting, just couldn't put it down."

\- Dr. Caroline Ncube

(For Road Humps and Sidewalks – Republished as Epidemic)

Disclaimer

ALL EVENTS, CHARACTERS, ENTITIES AND SEQUENCES DEPICTED IN THIS LITERARY WORK ARE FICTITIOUS. ANY RESEMBLANCE OR SIMILARITY TO ACTUAL PERSONS (LIVING OR DEAD) OR ENTITIES WHETHER EXISTING OR OTHERWISE, IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL. ANY DESCRIPTION OF PERSONS, NAMES, MARKS, WORKS OR ANY OTHER INFORMATION PORTRAYEDIN THE LITERARY WORK IS MERELY INCIDENTAL UNLESS OTHERWISE EXPRESSLY ACKNOWLEDGED.

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## Contents

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 Prologue

Part I The Project

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Part II Three Months Later. The Raids

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Part III The Case

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Part IV The Hit

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Chapter 67

Chapter 68

Chapter 69

Chapter 70

Chapter 71

Chapter 72

Chapter 73

Chapter 74

Chapter 75

Part V The Hunt

Chapter 76

Chapter 77

Chapter 78

Chapter 79

Chapter 80

Chapter 81

Chapter 82

Chapter 83

Chapter 84

Chapter 85

Chapter 86

Chapter 87

Chapter 88

Chapter 89

Chapter 90

Chapter 91

Chapter 92

Chapter 93

Chapter 94

Chapter 95

Chapter 96

Epilogue

DR. KALYAN'S BESTSELLING BOOKS

##  ___Prologue_

KingFish, the most luxurious Indian ship, surged into the calm waters of the Arabian Sea, towards Mumbai port. Standing on the bridge, Captain Hussain, a 60-year- old veteran, peered through the Steiner 7 x 50 mm marine binoculars for any hint of danger. Having entered the risk zone infested with ruthless pirates, for many of whom killing was akin to playing a video game, he was visibly tense. As he slowly scanned the horizon, the ageing captain involuntarily touched the pistol in his holster, thinking about the celebrities on board. The waters were devoid of any man-made machines, and all he could witness that beautiful, calm morning, were schools of dolphin, leaping in and out of water, flocks of seagull flying in a heart-stock formation and snouts of whales peeping out for air.

"It's a Beautiful Morning, isn't it", captain Hussain said to the young, sleepy chief officer on duty. "Yes Captain," the officer replied, yawning, not sharing the captain's excitement. "Shake off your sleep and stay vigilant. Let us pace it up to 40 knots instead of your lazy 15."

"Consider it done, Sir," the officer said, as the captain turned around and walked towards his cabin. Neither the vigilant captain nor the sleepy chief officer noticed the approaching object that had just surfaced at the north eastern horizon.

Sitting at his minimalistic, yet comfortable desk, Captain Hussain turned on the video recording of the party his ship had hosted the night before. Superstar Raj Khanna, the self proclaimed baadshah of Bollywood, had chosen the ship to host a grand party to celebrate the extraordinary box office performance of his recent film. Every big name in the industry was on board. Over the years, the captain had interacted with several influential people, but this was his first rendezvous with the film fraternity, and he hated every bit of their pomp, pretense, and pride. Thoroughly bored by the antics of the elite, he turned the video off in under 10 minutes, and was contemplating getting a much-needed dose of caffeine when he heard a blaring gun shot. Pulling out his old, yet well-oiled pistol, the captain quickly emerged from his cabin and scanned the deck. What he saw on board stopped him in his tracks, he blinked, and blinked again, to make sure it was not one of his delusional fits. To his disbelief, four masked men, dressed in black, armed with machine guns were forcing a silver haired gentleman, who looked the sanest and the most unpretentious among the guests, towards the railing.

"Where the hell is security," Hussain wondered, as he watched the scene in shock. As if responding to his thoughts, someone opened fire at the masked men from the bridge, but the shots went wide, too wide. One of the masked men returned a fire, shattering glass, and instantly silencing the shooter. Hussain did not move a muscle; he was smart enough to gauge that his pistol didn't have the muscle to challenge the machine guns the intruders were carrying. Then, to the captain's incredulity, the masked men effortlessly lifted the man over the railing, and rolled him on two thin cables into what seemed like a cruise boat. Following that, the men used hooks to seamlessly lower themselves into the boat before speeding away. As he gaped at the speeding boat that quickly turned into a speck, he heard someone shouting, "Pirates on board! There are pirates on board. They have abducted Chandra Sagar. Call the captain. The captain..." Captain Hussain did not move. He stood still watching the speck disappear.

##  __ Part I

## The Project

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## Chapter 1

##

"Project Pi is set to go live Mr. Krishnan," the very short, stout and prematurely balding Lamba announced, rolling noisily into the managing partner's office. "Good show Lamba! You have certainly done justice to your promotion as partner. What is it initially worth for Krish and Khan, by the way," the silver-haired man enquired, evidently pleased with his subordinate. "50 crores to begin with Sir. Much more later." Lamba grinned with pride. "Excellent! But remember Lamba, this is just the beginning. Don't let your spirits sag until you reach the much achievable 200 crore target."

"Certainly sir, I will not forget. May I take your leave? Just wanted to keep you posted before I officially begin the project."

"Of course you may, young man. Keep up the good work and all the best," the very pleased Krishnan said as Lamba left.

Vikas Lamba, a graduate of International School of Management, Bangalore (ISMB), considered himself very fortunate to be in his current position. Having graduated at the bottom one percent of his class, he had no hopes of landing a job, until Krish and Khan came along on day two of the recruitment drive. Specializing in services for media and entertainment sector, Krish and Khan was one of the few famous Indian management consultancy firms that hired regularly from ISMB. Despite his poor grades, Lamba managed to impress Mr. Unni Krishnan, founding partner of the firm, with his shrewd and sly demeanor. Deviousness and pretense were the follies of Lamba's personality, and once he joined the firm, he used those qualities tactfully to build business, deliver complicated projects and scale to the position of a partner faster than anyone in the firm's history. Film production houses and music labels adored Lamba for his ability to expertly execute work of any complexity, which other management firms did not even dare consider.

Walking down the narrow hallway towards his cabin, Lamba thought about the project on hand. It was a project he had been waiting on for three long years, a project that was unprecedented in scale and magnitude, a project that, Lamba knew, could transform the entertainment industry, and above all, a project that could give him everything he yearned, recognition, status, women and most importantly, wealth. As realization of the task's magnitude dawned on him, Lamba's elation first turned to circumspection, then, very soon to trepidation, and before he knew, he was wobbling into his chamber soaked in self-doubt. Clumsily plopping into his cozy, doubly cushioned, executive chair, Lamba, for the first time in his career, wondered whether he had it in him to see the project through. What bothered Lamba was neither the scale of the project nor its implementation. He was quite confident on those fronts. He was worried that he had no clue who his enemies were, let alone their stature. Though unexpected situations were a part and parcel of his work, threats and warnings were not, never had he received intimidating calls earlier. The calls, threatening him with dangerous consequences if he took up the project, since the very day he pitched for it, in absolute secrecy, or what he thought was absolute secrecy, shook his confidence and sent tremors through his spine. The more he thought about the project, the more he remembered the threatening voice warning him, "Lamba, do not stick your head into this, unless you want to lose it." Wiping away the drops of sweat that made way to his brow, Lamba took a few long breaths in an attempt to calm himself down. It took him 15 long minutes but Lamba's ambition finally trumped his fear, at least for the time being. Pulling out his newly acquired smart phone, he placed a call to Viren Bhatia, the man, who had seeded the idea of Project Pi in his head. Viren Bhatia was one of the leading and arguably the most expensive advocates in Mumbai. Though he was in his sixties, Viren was as upbeat as a 20 year old. Very technology savvy, a prolific user of modern tools, the most impressive, and important, thing about Viren, however, was that he was a master of new media, entertainment and intellectual property laws. Being in the same field, Lamba had met Viren at an entertainment conference, and they had immediately struck a symbiotic relationship. Lamba got the astute lawyer he badly needed, and Viren, got the business maker who could open doors to glory. Viren had in fact helped Lamba devise the final edition of Project Pi, with the agreement that he would be hired for its roll out, if and when it went through.

Viren's phone rang, and kept ringing till it got disconnected without being answered.. It was nine in the evening, way past his working hours, and Lamba knew Viren would be sipping on his routine drink in the solitude of his office. What got him worried however was that Viren always answered the call within the third ring. Lamba tried again, but the result was the same. On rare occasions, when Viren missed a call, he called back within 10 minutes. Lamba waited for half an hour, but did not get a call or a text from Viren. Lamba called again, but this time Viren's phone was not reachable.

Filled with anxiety, Lamba thought of swinging by Viren's office on his way home. But not inclined to let his fear be Viren's laughing stock, he decided against it. Lamba was, in fact, lucky to have made that decision. Things were going wrong, very wrong at Viren's end at that very moment.

##  ___Chapter 2_

It was 8.30PM, time for Viren's drink of the day. Giving him company that evening was Roshan, a 20-something, handsome, tall, heavily-built, young man, aspiring to be a Bollywood star. He had come in that day to Viren's office for advice on a legal matter and had decided to stay when the former offered him a drink. Viren who generally did not work with junior artistes, made an exception in this case, as Roshan had come with an unusually strong recommendation letter from Shan, a leading producer in Bollywood, and an esteemed client of Viren. While reading the letter redolent with great praise for the young man before him, Viren wondered why Shan had not called him about the man's visit. But he soon dismissed the thought as he knew that the old man's habits die hard. Also, having worked on several deal closures with the man, he knew the signature on the letter was authentic.

"Shan believes you have the potential to be the next super star," Viren said as he handed a glass of scotch to Roshan and settled back in his leather chair. "What is your preferred genre, Roshan?"

"I like murder mysteries Sir."

"Oh! That is wonderful. Very specific, though." Just then Viren's cell phone rang and he predictably answered on the second ring. "Do not call me again. I tell you for the very last time, I am not scared of your slimy threats," he shouted, and hung up without waiting for a response. Of late, Viren had been receiving abusive and intimidating phone calls demanding his withdrawal from Project Pi. Though such calls were not alien to a celebrity lawyer like him, there was something eerie about the caller. He somehow knew everything about the project, even the details known only to the core group, and much to Viren's dismay, he also knew far too much about Viren's personal and professional life. "All ok, sir" Roshan enquired, looking quite concerned. "Sorry, young man. We live in a world of cold and crank calls. Some ambitious bastards are attempting to scare me," Viren said, refilling his glass.

"Were they successful?"

"Ha! They wish!" Viren laughed aloud, hoping the large gulp of scotch would iron out the creases on his forehead. Unfortunately, though, that didn't happen. The scene before him only further furrowed his brow. The silenced gun pointed at him spelled only one thing, imminent death. The face of the man before him had transformed from innocence to wolfish cruelty, and Viren knew his fate. "But why," he asked, visibly shivering in fear. The only response he got was a wry smile. Just then, as if to diffuse the situation, Viren's phone rang. Noting from the ring tone that it was Lamba, Viren attempted to reach for it, but he was too late. The first bullet sailed through the air and went right through Viren's head and lodged in the wall behind him. It was followed by a couple more. Once his job was done, the killer finished his scotch, pocketed the letter he had handed to Viren earlier, and methodically wiped out the finger prints. After finishing the task to his satisfaction, as he was about to leave, Viren's phone rang again. Annoyed with the breach of peace, he smashed the phone with the sole of his shoe, and walked out unhurriedly.

##  ___Chapter 3_

Warm-up out of the way, she started her morning run at the expansive police parade grounds, adjoining her quarter. This was daily routine for Helen Joseph, the young, energetic and dynamic Assistant Commissioner of Police, who looked more like a super model than a police officer. Having completed half of her scheduled rounds, she picked up her pace, overtaking many young police men, giving them no opportunity whatsoever, of grabbing her attention. She was nicknamed 'running machine' not for nothing. Though it was part of her daily routine, fellow runners, few young, few old all consistently sent admiring looks her way, as she rocketed by on the track. For a non-reflexive eye, she was, but a blur.

Acknowledging neither the elderly onlookers, nor the indignant young men, Helen walked straight to the shooting range, after completing her rather extended sprint. Waiting for her at the shooting range was her boss, Shivaji Savarkar, Commissioner of Police, referred to by many as 'SS', a pun on the first letters of his name as well as a corruption for "yes", for he never said 'No' to any operation involving action. Modest and humble, though he was, Shivaji was a celebrity cop in Mumbai, loved by the common man for his sincerity and hated by politicians for his incorruptibility. But those were not the qualities that shone the limelight on him. In almost cinematic style, he earned the respect of many fellow policemen after he saved a group of school students from terrorists, valiantly and single-handedly displaying courage and fearlessness in the face of danger. He had unilaterally worked towards finishing the task while senior officers and politicians were busy squabbling about who was in charge. "Good morning sir," Helen greeted her role model with a wide smile. "Good morning, Helen. Are you ready for the show?"

"Yes Sir. You lead the way," she nodded, picking up her helmet.

Shivaji mounted his horse and got going as soon as the time keeper blew the whistle. By the time his horse gained speed and reached full gallop of 40 kmph, his gun was out and leveled. Eyes darting between alternating targets, he fired 10 times before his horse completed 100 meters race. "11 seconds, sir," the time keeper announced. "How many shots?"

"All hit the targets, sir. But only 2 in the bull's eye." Without dismounting his horse, Shivaji turned around and watched Helen take her position.

Helen's white horse started on the wrong foot and took six seconds to reach its full speed. Though she urged her horse loudly, her hands followed her eyes, which moved from target to target, with rapt attention. She had barely taken three shots, when her horse jerked and suddenly increased its pace. The next two shots went wide while she adjusted to the speed and regained balance. With her horse running mad, Helen took aim at what she felt were her targets, rather than what she could clearly see. On passing the finish line, she had to work very hard to get the horse back to sanity. If not for Shivaji's presence of mind in moving out of the way, her horse would have collided head on with his horse. "9.5 seconds, 7 shots and 5 in the bull's eye," the time keeper declared, as Helen slowly walked her horse towards Shivaji. "Congratulations, Helen! That was a breath-taking performance." Unable to believe the results, Helen replied, "Thank you Sir. The way this went, my next stop should be the lottery store!"

"Helen, I have always told you about your special ability to thrive under pressure. Everyone knows that, including your horse, except, of course, you."

"But, sir ..."

He cut her off, "Let's get going before you start being self deprecatory again. See you in office."

"Alright, sir. Bye."

Jogging towards her quarters, Helen thought about the puzzle she had been trying to put together for too long a time. For more than a month, she had been trying to establish links and patterns between certain online and offline terrorist activities. Though Shivaji and Helen were part of the Anti Terrorist Squad of Mumbai police, whose primary responsibility was to prevent and fight terrorism, they also had the additional responsibility of handling intellectual property and cyber crimes. The evolution of cyber terrorism, and the linkages between film piracy and terrorism had been giving her sleepless nights. On reaching her apartment, Helen went straight to the study table and checked her cell phone. The phone indicated ten missed calls from inspector Atre, her sub-ordinate. She called back, and he answered on the first ring. Atre gave her a message, which sent her hurrying to get wherever it was she needed to go.

##  ___Chapter 4_

Smiling as always, Inspector Atre was waiting for Helen, when she arrived at Viren's place. The most resourceful officer in the cell, Vijay Prashant Atre was the master of public relations, but knew very little about either intellectual property, or the cyber world, supposedly the primary focus of his work. He miraculously forgot everything he was taught, however good the teacher was, and was perennially challenged with the smart device technology. As far as Atre was concerned, they were alien devices, not meant for his 55-year-old, rusting mind. Despite his drawbacks, Atre was considered an integral part of the team, and was respected by one and all for his unparalleled knowledge of Mumbai geography and connections, something he acquired over the years with hard work and consistent effort.

"Good morning, Madam," Atre wished Helen, taking off his police cap, revealing his smooth, shining pate. "Morning, Atre. How long have you been holding them off," Helen enquired, referring to the crime branch officers at the scene, as they walked towards Viren's office. "About an hour, but don't worry, it's not a problem. They are not in a hurry. I informed them that we have been watching him for some time and that it is important for you to inspect the scene, before they start their work."

"Excellent. Did you get to have a look?"

"No Madam," Atre said guiltily. "I was really hungry. I went to get breakfast. As you know, my diabetes does not let me delay food."

"Ok. Who is the officer in charge?"

"Inspector Simran is at the scene. She is expecting you." Thanking her stars that the troublesome deputy commissioner Shailesh Mane, had not yet arrived, Helen greeted Simran as she entered Viren's office.

"What do you think?" she asked moving towards Viren's limp body on the chair.

"Just a couple of observations, Madam. The room is clean, no finger prints and two shots at point blank range. Nothing seems to be disturbed in the room, the air-conditioner was running, and there is no sign of a break in. Looks like a professional hit. The television was on, but muted, when we came in. The cell phone has been crushed, we pulled out the SIM card. Fortunately, it is intact."

"OK. Can you please ensure that no one disturbs us, while I inspect?"

"Of Course, Madam. As always." When it came to a crime scene investigation, Helen knew very well that the devil was always in the details, and hence preferred solitude while at it. Atre knew this and stayed away while she walked the grid. Looking at the black, coagulated blood, the stiff body on the chair and visible bruises on the neck and hands, it was not difficult for Helen to conclude that Viren was killed at least six hours prior to her arrival. The whisky glasses on the table drew her to the probable conclusion that Viren was killed by someone he knew and who was drinking with him. "The pattern had uncanny similarities to the murder of the other two entertainment lawyers. Could they be connected?" She wondered, walking towards Viren's desk.

On the desk, distinctly away from the heavy, bulky law books, there were three files neatly stacked at the corner to the right. Wearing her gloves, to avoid contaminating the evidence, Helen quickly skimmed through each of the files. Two of them related to high profile suits filed by Bollywood production houses against television channels, which were extensively reported, nothing unusual for a leading entertainment lawyer of Viren's stature. But the third file was different and very odd to say the least. It had just one paper in it, no party names, no voluminous briefs and no evidence, unlike the other files. Helen picked the file and scrutinized it closely. There were no signs of the file having been tampered with. She focused her attention to the one page document in the file. It read, "Project Pi", in the centre of the page, in large, bold letters, written in the middle of three circles of different colors. Helen pulled out her phone and captured the page. Well aware that it was not her case of murder investigation and that she did not have much time, Helen quickly looked around for other information that could help her cause. She had to work with the Crime Branch on the case. They would primarily investigate the murder, while she looked at the cyber crime and IP cues, if any. Since the day they received the daunting report from the intelligence bureau, they had been monitoring Viren's activities, online and offline, for about a month. After reviewing the scene from a macro level, Helen quickly made a note of the list of evidence she needed from the crime scene. Copies of hard disks, information in memory devices, CCTV records, and data on the SIM Card, in/out register and copies of the files, among others, were among her entries.

Before concluding, Helen went through the scene once again, and decided that she was through. She thanked Simran for her support and sent her an email with the list of things she further needed for her investigation. She marked Shivaji on the email to make sure that the uncooperative Mane kept out of her way. Then, she dictated the list to Atre, who jotted down everything on a piece of crumpled paper, and requested him to come straight to office, after collecting the materials.

When Helen left the building, she noticed that a large crowd was starting to assemble. She could spot a few familiar faces from the media, attempting to get through the constables at the perimeter, trying to gather any information they could to feed their news stories. Before anyone could get through to her, Helen hopped into the car and beckoned her driver to get going. As soon as the driver honked his way out of the throng, Helen saw a striking yet strange individual. He was stumpy, fat, bald, and was wearing a grey suit, with a bow tie. He stood next to a yellow Zen, an early 90s model by Maruti. Not only did he distinctly stand out from the surroundings, he also seemed visibly apprehensive. Suppressing her urge to stop and interrogate him, Helen looked at the number plate, and filed the details in her head. She would look into it later. At that moment though, it was time for her to go to office and brief Shivaji about the coincidences, or the lack thereof.

##  ___Chapter 5_

Holding tight to his swaying robe, Lamba faced the pleasant, yet strong breeze, and took in the splendor of the rising sun. His girl friend, one of the leading super models in India, lay fast asleep, after a night long party. Stealing a quick glance at her beautiful face, Lamba fought the urge to kiss her. He reluctantly walked out of his bedroom onto the sandy beach towards the lashing water, enjoying the beautiful morning. In his peripheral vision, Lamba could see his driver, dressed in white, cleaning the Lamborghini, he had recently gifted his girl friend. "Where is my Yacht?" he wondered, scanning the infinite sea of water before him. He pertinently remembered that it was docked behind his beach house when he went to sleep last night, but now, it was missing.

Within a minute, the peaceful morning turned into a panic filled one. "Where is the damn Yacht? Who took it?" Lamba yelled, facing the driver. Looking up from the car, the driver grinned, not helping his cause. "How dare you, you idiot," Lamba shouted, his face turning scarlet. To Lamba's surprise, the driver just shrugged and got back to work, showing no regard to him whatsoever. Totally annoyed, Lamba was to pounce on him, when he heard a loud beep, something that sounded like a bomb, ticking away.

Alarmed, Lamba looked around, but could not find it anywhere. The sound grew louder by the second, until finally, Lamba's hand involuntarily reached for the device and switched it off. Rubbing his eyes, Lamba looked at the alarm clock by his bedside. The time was Eight AM, time to get ready and meet Viren. "What a wonderful dream ...This god damn alarm," he muttered, looking out of the window, which opened to the kitchen of the next apartment, not a beach. Forcing himself out of his small bed, just enough for him, Lamba walked into his shabby bathroom and cursed at the Indian style commode. The owner of the tiny, one bedroom apartment, had promised to change the commode within a day of renting it, two years back, which, like any landlord in Mumbai, he conveniently forgot after the deal was struck. Cursing the owner, wishing that the dream was real, Lamba got ready for work. It took him just twenty minutes to suit up in grey, and walk out, his speed accelerated by his longing to get away from the dingy apartment. Lamba was soon on the road to Viren's office, whistling, as he drove his old, yet passionately yellow Zen, thinking about Project Pi and the good times it would bring. Half an hour later, his whistling was replaced with an open mouth as he saw the squadron of police men at Viren's office. Parking at the only slot that was available, he got off the car and stood there, trepidation, reflecting all over his face. Swallowing hard, Lamba wondered if the commotion meant the end of Viren and with him, Project Pi.

Wiping the beads of sweat on his forehead, Lamba was about to move forward and find out what happened, when he saw the celebrated lady cop, Helen, pass by in her car. He had seen her on television several times, discussing about online crimes. Noticing her gaze linger on him, he pretended to be a curious bystander until her car went out of sight.

Then, Lamba learnt the news about Viren from a journalist, and drove away, stopping several times before reaching office, to take deep breaths and bring his shaky nerves under control.

##  ___Chapter 6_

Just 20 minutes after leaving Viren's office, Helen's car went off the Eastern Expressway and embedded itself in rush hour traffic into Mumbai city. The blue light on her car hardly helped as the road was completely jammed in all directions. Stuck in her car, helpless and restless, Helen thought about the eventful morning. Following Viren's limp body, the strange single-paged file, and gathering crowd, Helen's thoughts stopped at the image of the short man and his yellow car. She immediately texted a constable, requesting him for information about the car and its owner. As she waited, she cursed herself for not clicking his photograph, which would have eased her search.

Helen did not have to wait long before she heard from her efficient, technology savvy constable, who provided more details than she had hoped. The task was simple and straightforward for the constable. He had to just enter the car number in the vehicle database, copy the results, and e-mail it to Helen. This was possible on the public database, but the information was sparse, and often inaccessible. On quick perusal of the data, Helen noted that the car was sold four times since its first sale in 1994, until it reached a person by the name, Vikas Lamba, the present owner. A small picture of Lamba, accompanying the information confirmed that he was the same person Helen had seen a few minutes ago. He resided at Vashi and worked at a company called, Krish and Khan, at Nariman Point. A simple Google search on Krish and Khan led Helen to the firm's website. In less than five minutes, she reviewed the entire website to learn that the firm offered management consultancy services for the entertainment industry, claiming to be a leader in the field. Helen wondered about the firm's obscurity despite the claimed popularity and made an obvious, although unsubstantiated, connection between Krish and Khan and Viren Bhatia, a leading lawyer in the same field. As the car inched forward in a sea of vehicles, Helen wondered if Vikas Lamba could help her unravel the mysterious Project Pi.

Two hours later, Helen reached the police headquarters, at Fort. And just as she did each time she walked into the building, Helen marveled at its magnificence. Sitting under the watchful eye of Neptune, sculpted at the top, the building was constructed in the Gothic style and continued to hold the feel of a medieval monument. "Is SS in office?" she asked the officer seated behind a small desk, guarding unwarranted entrants to Shivaji's office. "Yes, madam. He is expecting you," the officer said, smiling, while opening the large, not-so-ornate door. Thanking him, Helen walked straight to Shivaji's small desk, positioned in the centre of his expansive office. A gush of cool breeze from the air-conditioner swept across her face, ruffling her hair, as she pulled up a chair and sat down.

"Welcome, Helen. What news do you carry for me? Sorry, before we begin, would you like some coffee? You look tired."

"No, thank you, sir. Some cold water would be great though."

Dialing on the intercom, Shivaji asked for one hot coffee and a bottle of cold water. "To Viren now."

"Yes, sir," Helen started, "the similarities first. Just like the other entertainment lawyers, Viren Bhatia was also shot in the head and at point blank range. No fingerprints, nothing disturbed, and nothing traces us to the killer so far."

"Interesting."

"But sir, unlike the other lawyers, who represented smaller clients against large production houses, Viren represents only large production houses, music labels, and artists."

"I know his stature, Helen. He is very expensive. Our paths have crossed many a time."

"There is something very interesting, I discovered at Viren's office," Helen continued, sipping on the cold water that just arrived. She then brought up the one-page file on Project Pi.

"What do you think those circles mean? And the colours?"

"Sir, the circles are blue, black and red, inside-out. I don't know if they signify anything. I am planning to dig further today. My gut tells me it is important."

Helen however withheld the information about the short man she spotted outside Viren's office. Shivaji, she knew did not appreciate uncorroborated details, and she had already thrown plenty of those at him for the day. Shivaji thought for a minute and said, "Helen, stop working on this case for a while. Our team has initiated a raid on a plastics outfit in Malad. Go there, and ensure that our guys don't foil it."

"But, sir, we have standardized the process, I am not sure, if the site requires my presence.

"It does, go now," Shivaji commanded.

Holding her disappointment, Helen stood up, saluted and left. Raids at plastic companies were always unpleasant, and Helen never liked the participation. Back in her car and a long way to go, Helen sat back and thought about Shivaji's decision to send her. "Why does he want me to be there? Would he rather divert my attention away from Project Pi?" It was in fact very strange for Helen. Shivaji had always wanted her to do the thinking, and unlike this time, often insisted on her staying out of mundane affairs. The traffic was thinning but Helen's racing thoughts weren't. As the car rolled on, Helen worked hard to fight this unproductive line of thought that was getting her nowhere. 

## Chapter 7

The story of a raid, predictably enough, was always the same; only the characters varied. The primary objective of an intellectual property raid is to confiscate infringing material, and arrest the perpetrators. Contrary to their intended purpose, the raids were often used very effectively by the resourceful and the literate, with deep pockets to intimidate their business adversaries, irrespective of the strength of their case. Among others, disgruntled former employees starting their own competing business, annoyed patent or design-owners looking to stop their competitor from copying their products, and theft of trade secrets were some of the reasons for initiation of most raids. While registration of a copyright, patent or design, was normally considered necessary for organizing a raid, it was not always compulsory. The tricky part of the exercise was not the raid itself; it was collecting incriminating evidence and determining that there was copying. More often than not, courts either rejected evidence of copying submitted by the police, or disagreed with them on conclusions of imitation. To avoid embarrassment before the courts, and prevent inconvenience to innocent citizens, the police, under Helen's leadership, established a well-defined process for organizing raids in Mumbai, which required approval by an officer of at least the rank of Assistant Commissioner. Despite the process, the system was susceptible to easy misuse. In the face of arrest, most people succumbed to the demands of the raiders, and officers at the lower level, often organized many unapproved raids for making a quick buck, none of which were formally recorded.

A hefty sum was paid to the police by the raid organizer, a large company called Plast Ware, which manufactured household plastic items, and the raid that day was signed off by Deputy Commissioner Mane himself. Plast Ware held more than 20 patent and design registrations, and was pushing for seizure of ornate plastic boxes and their moulds, at its competitor Good Plast's premises.

When Helen arrived at Good Plast's factory, the sub inspector was at his bullying best. "You better hand over all the boxes and their moulds. Else, today is Friday, and you will be in jail until Monday morning." The subject of the threat, the proprietor, of Good Plast, an old, lean man, protested at the unjust threat, but the officer paid no heed to his plea. "I am advising you as your well wisher," the inspector said, continuing in the same vein with, "Things will be easy for you if you just let us take the products."

"We violated no one's rights, sir," the old man objected, this time in a stern voice. Clearly annoyed by the old man's response, the sub-inspector moved forward ominously and raised his baton. It was at this point that Helen entered the premises; on seeing this she yelled immediately. "Stop it, Jagan," Helen said loudly. "You are a disgrace! How many times have I asked you to mend your ways?" The sub-inspector did not expect Helen at the spot and her sudden appearance took him by surprise. "But, Madam...," the inspector tried to protest, but Helen did not let him complete, "Don't!" she shouted, striding purposefully towards him and snatching his baton, before throwing it away. "Get this thing ... out of here," she ordered the constables.

Then, pausing for a moment to regain her composure, "I am very sorry, sir," Helen apologized, looking into the old man's fear-filled eyes. She then calmly asked, "Please tell me, sir. Why should we not seize your products and moulds?"

"Madam," the old man replied, "We have been making these products for the last 20 years. I don't know how they got a registration."

"OK. Can you please bring me your products?" Sitting in the old man's cabin with Plast Ware's lawyer, who did not utter a word after her arrival, Helen compared Good Plast's products, with those in the Plast Ware's design registration certificates. The products were identical, and there was no doubt that Good Plast was copying the design. "Sir, your products are identical to the registered designs. Do you have proof that you have been selling these products for the last 20 years?" Evidently worried, the old man requested, "Madam, can you please give me some time to search?"

"Yes, of course," Helen permitted, reviewing the documents before her. Then, the old man disappeared into what looked like a store room, and re-appeared after half an hour, just when anxiety was getting the better of Helen.

Clearing the table, the old man placed a stack of product catalogues and bills on the table. Taking his own time, hands trembling, he carefully coupled a few bills with each catalogue, and passed them to Helen. The catalogues looked really old to her, and Helen believed in their age. The products on the catalogue, though made of a different material, looked exactly like the registered designs. The similarity was unmistakable for an ordinary person like her, which was the legal test, and the product numbers in the catalogue matched with those in the bills. After reviewing five catalogues and bills, Helen was convinced the products existed before date of filing of the design by Plast Ware and therefore, the design was wrongfully registered.

Bearing in mind the possible backlash, Helen made her decision. Standing up, she said, "I am very sorry about the inconvenience, sir. We will not be seizing your products. I apologize on behalf of my officer." Fighting the mist swelling in his eyes, the old man said, "Thanks, madam. You saved me." Before she could respond, "God bless you, madam," he managed, wiping his flowing tears.

"It is my duty. Thank you, sir," Helen replied, attempting hopelessly an appropriate response. Consciously refraining from any further conversation, Helen walked out of Good Plast.

After dismissing the raid party, Helen thought about her next move. Calling off the raid meant that filling forms and leg work was not required, and most importantly, she had lot of time on hand. It did not take her long to come to a decision. Helen got into the car, and asked her driver to go to Nariman Point. For good or bad, it was time for her to meet the short man, and she hoped, learn more about Project Pi.

##  ___Chapter 8_

On her way to Nariman Point, Helen placed a call to Inspector Simran. It had been five hours since Helen met Simran at the crime scene, and she hoped that Simran would give her Viren's call data. Hearing the rude, standard 'out of reach' message on Simran's number, Helen dialed Atre, once again hoping he might have some update. As always, Atre answered on the first ring. "Hello, madam. I was about to call you."

"What's up, Atre Saab."

"Madam, Deputy Commissioner Mane did not let me collect anything from Viren's house. He asked me to place a formal request through SS." Helen was not surprised. She knew that Shivaji and Mane did not get along well with each other. "But, madam," Atre continued, "Simran gave me the call information"

"Anything worthwhile?"

"Well, only one thing for now. The last two calls Viren received, which Simran feels may have some value, are from a person named Vikas Lamba."

Hearing Lamba's name sent a gush of adrenalin through Helen's head. "Did you say Vikas Lamba?" she asked, confirming. "Yes, madam. He works with a management firm called Krish and Khan." That was more than sufficient re-assurance for Helen.

"Anything else, Atre?"

"No Madam, that's all I have for now," Atre replied, before she ended the call. It was clear from Atre's terse reply that he was disappointed for not being able to offer more. But for Helen, whatever information Atre had given was more than sufficient to bolster her plan of action. Corroborating evidence at her disposal now, Helen wondered if it was a good idea to inform Shivaji about her visit to Krish and Khan. After a momentary hesitation, she decided against it; at least for the time being. It was 4:30 PM when Helen arrived at Nariman Point, the premier business district in Mumbai. Owing to its prominence, the driver had no trouble spotting the Nariman Business Center, a modern commercial building. On seeing the car bearing a blue light and police insignia, the guard at the gate skipped the standard procedure and let them in, saluting smartly. "That was easy. Looks like all one needs is a police car to break in. Will they ever learn?" Helen pondered as the car entered the porch and halted. She verified the address again and walked straight to the elevator lobby acknowledging the salutes of two guards at the entrance.

The ride in the lift to the 10th floor was quick. Krish and Khan occupied the entire floor and Helen landed straight at the reception desk. "Good morning, madam. What can I do for you," the cheerful young woman at the reception enquired. Contrary to the general reaction on seeing a police officer, she seemed quite unperturbed with Helen's unexpected entry. "I am here to meet Mr. Vikas Lamba. Is he in?"

"Yes, madam. And you're Officer Helen Joseph, right," the receptionist asked, eyeing Helen's badge. Helen nodded with a smile, and the girl dialed, gesturing Helen to be seated, ever so pleasantly.

##  ___Chapter 9_

Sitting motionless and open-mouthed, Lamba brooded over the mess he had gotten himself into. From Viren's office, he had taken three long and unforgettable hours to reach Nariman Point. The drive was a nightmare, something he wished he could erase from his memory. On the way, he made several stops, attempting to calm his nerves, often throwing up. Dehydrated and weak, he had somehow managed to reach his office. Unlike other days, Lamba neither wished nor acknowledged any of his colleagues; he quietly passed by, totally unmindful of their presence.

He sat motionless at his desk, dazed and bewildered, while a storm of terrifying thoughts gripped his mind. If not for his middle-aged secretary's timely intervention, Lamba's condition would have worsened, almost requiring hospitalization. Sensing his terrible state, his secretary persuaded Lamba to have some cold water or fresh lime water, which rehydrated and energized him. "Thanks Priya," Lamba uttered in gratitude, after devouring four glasses of the refreshing liquid. When he felt awake, Lamba walked to the conference room and poured himself glass after glass of whisky from the reserves kept for special clients.

Two hours later, the ethanol in his blood took over, and Lamba not only calmed down, but also started thinking straight. "Was Viren killed because of Project Pi? Will they get me as well? Should I pursue this project at the cost of my life?" His mind was a whirl of questions. He had no answers for any of them, and could only speculate. "Pursue the project and risk my life or forego it at the cost of my career," he wondered as he tried to work his way through the dilemma. He truly felt like a cat on the wall.

The never-ending equivocation was giving Lamba a nagging headache, when Unni Krishnan, the old horse, walked into the conference room. Aware of Lamba's unusual conduct, and having seen news of Viren Bhatia's murder on television, Unni was worried. For him and his firm, it was important to ensure that Project Pi stayed alive and Lamba, arguably the firm's best resource, was not out of action. The last thing he wanted was the loss of a lucrative project due to threats or fear, a daily affair for celebrities in Mumbai.

"Is everything alright," Unni asked, trying to sound concerned.

"I guess not. I feel troubled," Lamba replied, gazing at Unni with bloodshot eyes.

"If this is about Viren and Project Pi, you are wasting your time worrying for no reason." This statement took Lamba by surprise. How did Unni know, he wondered. Unni continued speaking, "I spoke to my sources about this. They told me that Viren Bhatia was killed for locking horns with Shan. And it has got nothing to do with Pi," he said, attempting to sound as genuine as possible.

"What is this guy saying? Shan killed Viren? Why would Shan kill a golden goose," Lamba stared incredulously trying in vain to digest his boss's deductions.

"Besides," Unni went on, "Project Pi has got nothing illegal and you are working with the big boys. Lamba, you are on the hunter's side, and not the hunted." Unni looked into Lamba's eyes and said firmly, "I am with you, the police force is with you and most importantly, Shan and his buddies are with you in this very important, highly rewarding, and zero-risk game." From Lamba's face, Unni knew that he held his complete attention and that the ploy seemed to be working.

"Sir, I am deeply disturbed by Viren's murder. He was a good friend and a great hand for us. I never considered dropping Project Pi," Lamba lied without a second thought. Making up his mind at that very moment, "Project Pi is our flagship project and nothing can stop it," Lamba stated emphatically, thumping the table with his fist, signaling his eagerness and sincerity to Unni.

However scared and unsure Lamba was, he was not going to show his weakness to his boss of all people. Just then, the phone in the conference room started to ring. It was Priya, Lamba's secretary. "Lamba sir, Ms. Helen, Assistant Commissioner of Police, is here to see you," she announced on the newly-installed polyphone.

"Who?" Lamba asked, surprised.

"Ms. Helen Sir. Assistant Commissioner," she repeated. Lamba shot a quick, tentative look at Unni, who nodded amicably and motioned to go ahead.

"Priya, please bring Ms. Helen to conference room three after 10 minutes."

"Yes Sir. As you wish," Priya said, disconnecting.

"Relax Lamba, you will be fine," Unni re-assured, patting him on his shoulder while walking out. Alone once again, fighting recurring terror, Lamba wondered how the police officer managed to get to him so quickly. Despite all the tension, Lamba, for reasons not totally alien to him, looked forward to Helen's acquaintanceship.

## 

##  ___Chapter 10_

After freshening up and straightening his tie in the restroom, Lamba headed to the designated conference room for his meeting. Munching on a mouth freshener to camouflage the odour of alcohol, he settled down at the head of the rectangular table. Then, he took his phone out and started playing Temple Run, pretending to be busy. His mind was obviously not in the game and the evil monkeys were getting the better of him, when Priya escorted Helen into the room. He stood up almost reflexively, "Welcome Ms. Helen. It is an honor to meet you. How may I help you?" Lamba said, shaking her hand.

"Thanks for agreeing to meet me at short notice, Mr. Lamba," Helen responded, smiling as she took her seat. Introductions and pleasantries out of the way, Helen initiated her fact-finding mission. Helen started cautiously. "Mr. Lamba, I hope you understand the gravity of the situation and will help us resolve the escalating crisis. We don't have a lot of time on hand, and I expect full co-operation from your side," she informed Lamba earnestly. Helen's intention was to be as vague as possible, sound genuine, sprinkle facts at right instances and gain Lamba's confidence. Once she achieved that, Helen was confident that culling information out from him would not be a difficult task.

"What crisis?" Lamba croaked, clearing his dry throat, feigning confusion.

"Mr. Lamba, I will be as forthcoming as possible. We know everything about your project and people involved. Actually, more about the project than you can imagine. I saw you at Viren Bhatia's place today morning, and you know it," Helen asserted, looking at his crimson eyes.

Helen noted the anxiety and recognition in Lamba's eyes when she mentioned Viren's name and the project and that was all she needed to drive the conversation. "What do you know?" Lamba mumbled, his voice barely audible. Helen heard him, yet sat expressionless, deliberately ignoring his question as if she had heard nothing. The ploy always worked for her to bring weak-minded criminals into her grasp, and it worked this time as well.

"Ms. Helen, what do you know about the project," Lamba asked again, slightly louder than the previous time. The nervous moment of baiting had arrived, and Helen weaved the specifics into a believable tale.

"We know about Project Pi. Viren Bhatia has been under our radar for a while now and we have been watching you as well. We are aware of your connection to him," Helen dropped on Lamba all the facts in her possession and patiently waited for his response. She did not have to wait for long as the effect of the statements on Lamba was quick and instantaneous. All of a sudden, he seemed and looked well informed.

"I know how you learned about Project Pi despite the fact that it was highly confidential," he said triumphantly. "Shan told you, didn't he? Who else has the guts and power to pull the police into this? Apart from Viren and me, only Shan and few of his men know the entire story," he concluded, connecting what he felt were the dots between Unni's and Helen's conversations.

"You got it Mr. Lamba," Helen improvised, "Shan did give us an overview. But things have been bizarre, as you know. Viren's murder has brought us back to square one. We need you to tell us the entire story of Project Pi in detail, for the record. That will help us clear your name from the case and nail the perpetrators.

"You seem to know everything. What do you want from me," Lamba asked, unable to understand what Helen expected.

Thinking quickly, Helen decided to scare Lamba by incriminating him, a common ploy she often used to extract information from a subject. "Mr. Lamba, our sources hint that you could have been involved in some of the criminal activities linked with the murders of entertainment lawyers in the recent past."

Lamba went pale on hearing that. He attempted to speak, but could only manage a hiss. Pausing for a while for effect, Helen said, "I have reviewed your background, and it seems clean to me. However, I need clear and complete disclosure from you. That is the only way, if any, to prove your innocence. That is, if you are truly innocent" She added. Though Helen hated to use intimidation tactics, her options here were limited and she felt that this could be her only chance before the crime branch made their way to Lamba. Once she finished talking, Helen waited for a response from Lamba. Petrified and worried, Lamba considered his options. Conflicting thoughts ran through his troubled mind and logic escaped him.

Finally, though there were many loose ends in Helen's story, Lamba decided to go ahead and tell her all about Project Pi. "Ok. I will tell you everything from the start," he said, staring blankly at his phone. He trusted her by gut, and he decided to go by it. Besides, in the light of persisting threats and the risky path that lay ahead, Lamba thought staying honest with Helen might work in his favor and hopefully, protect him if the project backfired. Moreover, he very well knew that he would need Helen's support for implementation of Project Pi, and staying in her good books would only help him in the long run.

Upon the arrival of hot coffee just before Lamba began his story, they took a much-needed break. Helen placed her cap on the table and poured herself a cup of coffee. It had been a long day for her and she needed some caffeine to keep her brain functioning. Involuntarily, Lamba gazed at Helen as she sipped her coffee. Despite the tension, he felt a sense of calm, looking at her beautiful face, which seemed to glow, like the full moon on a dark night, in the dimly lit room. Moments later, Lamba was jolted to reality when Helen asked "Shall we start," pulling her phone out and switching on the voice recorder. He told her the story, or rather parts of the story, he knew.

## _  
_

##  ___A Year Ago..._
## Chapter 11

The Renaissance Hotel overlooking the Powai Lake buzzed with high profile visitors from across the world that Friday morning. All the rooms were occupied, and a series of business meetings were in progress across the conference halls, lobbies, and restaurants. The hotel staff was on its toes to cater to the whims of their celebrity guests. Though the hotel hosted many events for the entertainment industry, this one was special; not just because of it being a prime event in the field, but it was also the largest congregation in Asia. FICCI Frames, the most sought after media and entertainment conclave, the biggest forum in the country for strategic networking, the platform for burgeoning artistes, and the breeding ground for national and international business partnerships was set to start that very morning.

Organized by the entertainment division of FICCI, Federation of Indian Chamber of Commerce and Industry, Frames remained a popular destination for national and international entertainment honchos. Since its establishment in 1927 on the advice of Mahatma Gandhi, Birla and Purushottam Das, FICCI has been instrumental in influencing business law and policy making as well as promotion of various industry sectors. The contributions of FICCI's entertainment division, like other divisions, are note worthy. Some of its notable achievements include government recognition of the film sector as an industry, tax cuts for multiplexes, lowering of entertainment tax, and promotion of business interests, among others. Piracy, one of the biggest hurdles in the growth of the entertainment industry, was the focus of FICCI Frames that year.

Universally recognized as a challenge to reckon with, piracy has been one of the few unifying factors in the industry, otherwise dominated by conflicts and differences. Though top guns in entertainment never saw eye to eye on most things, the story was different when it came to piracy. They sat at the same table, often narrated identical stories of lost profits, whined about government inaction, and agreed on the need for proactive measures to curb the evil. It was the consensus and helplessness that led them to initiate a serious dialogue on combating piracy under the aegis of FICCI Frames, at the Renaissance. Having arrived early, Lamba managed to procure a comfortable seat at the Lake View Cafe, and marveled at the clean waters reflecting the sun's morning rays. His boss, Saleem Khan, the named partner of the firm and the indisputable management guru of the entertainment sector, was seated across. For a man in his 80s, Khan looked deceptively fit and young. His dyed, thick black hair, wrinkle-free face and cherubic demeanor, made him look at least 20 years younger. "Is the presentation ready, Lamba" Khan asked, taking a sip of his black coffee. Though he was at the helm of business affairs of entertainment, he could never manage to adapt to new technology, despite great efforts. "Yes, sir. I am all set. I have incorporated 3D animations and special effects for the benefit of audience," Lamba replied. "Excellent. Enjoy the morning before Shan shakes our peace."

"Sure sir," Lamba smiled picking his cup of masala chai. Lamba was in Khan's good books and worked closely with him in all his projects. They enjoyed the morning, blissfully unaware of the suited, well-built man with a thick black mustache, seated at the next table, keeping a close eye on them.

At exactly 8:50 AM, Ganesh Shan stepped out of his Rolls Royce Phantom, and slowly mounted the stairs towards the plush hotel lobby. For the King of Bollywood, chairman of Tunes, the largest production house in the industry and holder of more than 40 percent of Hindi film and music content, many might consider it a very modest entry. Despite the fact that Shan and Khan were good friends and were of the same age, contrary to Khan's physical appearance, Shan was short, frail and silver haired, his features reflecting his age as well as experience. Unlike the reception party in Western suits, who were, by now, by his side, escorting him to the auditorium, Shan wore a traditional khadi kurta with his hallmark orange Nehru jacket.

Once inside the auditorium, Shan sat in the first row and reviewed his inaugural speech. The announcement on the state of the art sound system hushed most animated conversations and alerted them to the inauguration ceremony, due in five minutes. Agreeing to continue their discussions later, most groups made their way hurriedly to the 2000-seat auditorium, which filled up quickly. Khan and Lamba finished their beverages and got moving, but unlike others, they were in no hurry. Being one of the sponsors of frames, Krish and Khan had VIP seats in the first row were reserved for their representatives. Moreover, being a leading expert in the field, Khan was a keynote speaker at the inauguration and held special privileges. Once they left, the man with the thick mustache paid his bill and left the cafe. However, unlike his subjects, he did not head to the auditorium; instead, he went to the rest room, and waited.

##  ___Chapter 12_

At precisely 9 o'clock on the dial, a woman draped in six yards of blue, pretty and young, walked to the podium and greeted the audience with a broad smile that failed to reach her anxious eyes. Twenty seconds later, her expression turned grim as if a light was switched off, while she announced the union law minister's last minute change of plan. "Unfortunately," she said, "our chief guest, the honorable law minister will not be able to grace the Frames with his esteemed presence due to an emergency. He had to call off his visit this morning just as he was about to board his flight to Mumbai to attend a very important meeting, convened by the Prime Minister himself. During his phone conversation with our director, the honorable minister has conveyed his heartfelt regret and apology for not being able to be here with us. However, he was kind enough to make his speech available to us, and for those of you interested, printed copies of his speech will be available at the reception by lunch time."

"Not to worry though," the smile was back, this time much broader, as she dramatically stated, "Our very special guests, the illustrious godfather of Bollywood, Mr. Shan, and the eminent, grand old advisor of entertainment industry, Mr. Khan, are with us. Accompanying them is our respectable director of FICCI, Mr. Tagore. In furtherance of our director's personal request, I am happy to inform you that Mr. Shan has kindly agreed to fill in as the chief guest for the inauguration. I would like to now take this opportunity to initiate the proceedings by inviting the dignitaries to the dais."

She went on to introduce each person, theatrically reading out their self-composed, pompous profiles, while volunteers escorted them to their designated seats. Once they settled down, comfortably, the woman got them on their feet again by announcing, "Now, it is time to light the lamp. May I request the honorable guests to light the fire of Frames?"

Everyone in the auditorium knew the convention and stood up, while the three old men lit up the shining, aesthetic brass lamp. Thus, Frames had officially begun.

Following a very brief introductory address by Tagore, it was Shan's turn. He was invited ceremoniously by the woman in blue to deliver the chief guest's address. He carried no paper, no presentation; it was just him and his audience. "Creativity is a virtue, and creators, virtuous," he began. "All of humanity is happy to enjoy the fruits of creativity, but how many spare a thought for its creators, leave alone rewarding them? We Indians are at the forefront of creativity, and unfortunately, of its destruction as well. Unless we respect writers, musicians, artists, performers, directors, and all other creators, protect their rights, stand by them and nurture them, the creative essence of life that gives us joy, that unites us, and that makes life worth living, will soon perish."

That emphatic opener provoked a loud round of applause from the audience, which took more than a minute to die down. "Reverence to copyrights, my friends, is the key," Shan continued, "Respecting copyrights equals respecting creators. Copyrights encourage authors to create works of literature and art, and by doing so benefits mankind tremendously. By copyrighting one's work, an author protects his interests in the work from misuse, and the least the society can do is safeguard those interests, for its own good, if not for the author's good. But, is the society doing that? Are we truly doing what we are supposed to do to protect our authors and their work," Shan questioned, scanning the crowd for a response, gesticulating dramatically. But the only answer Shan got was silence, an unflinching silence.

As the audience listened to Shan in rapture, Khan quietly ambled out of the auditorium, gesturing Lamba who had instantly got on his feet, to stay back. Though, as always, Shan's speech was extremely interesting, and was laying a solid foundation for Khan's talk to follow, he could not hold his bladder any longer. Thinking about the dose of insulin he had missed that morning, Khan first cursed his rusting memory and then his incapacitated pancreas while he headed to the rest room as quickly as his old feet and the hotel's glazed floor could permit. On his way, he slipped ominously, but managed to get his bearing and walked on, politely declining the help offered by a passing security officer. Khan would have been extremely fortunate if he was grounded with a broken bone, because that would have averted the fate that awaited his arrival.

##  ___Chapter 13_

In his profession, success and failure were dependent on patience and presence of mind rather than on strength and skill, and the thick-mustached man knew this better than anyone else. Being a gifted and skilled professional, he rarely let his employers down. Despite CCTVs all over the hotel, being identified was the last of his concerns. The heavy makeup, artificial musculature, adapted body color, and altered posture, he knew, were more than enough to mask his identity. The task at hand was a simple one, but the fact that it had too many potential spoilers worried him. Not a person who relied on luck, he waited, anxiously checking his watch, too often to his liking. After a considerably long wait, the door opened, and an old man entered the men's room. He walked straight to the urinals and stood there for a long time, before walking to the wash basin. As per plan, the mustached man waited until the entrant opened the tap to slipped out of the closet, his hiding place. On realizing who it was, "Hello," he said, smiling at the man's reflection in the mirror. "Is your stomach still upset, sir?" the man asked, eyeing his image, without turning around. "Yes, still flowing. I suspect food poisoning."

"That's sad to hear, sir. I wish you a speedy recovery," the man in blue uniform said sympathetically, stepping out with his mechanized floor cleaner.

Now, it was way past his estimated time and his subject, Khan, had not made his pit stop yet. "Is there another restroom near the auditorium? Was I misinformed about his health," the mustached man speculated, his patience levels dropping by the second. For some reason, he was not in his element that day. Whether it was the mission or his sister's health, he did not know. As he was pacing back and forth, his patience rapidly running out, the door opened. Before his brain could register the face of the entrant, Khan pushed him out of his way and rushed towards the pots. It took Khan about two minutes to complete his job, giving the man ample time to plan his act, and Khan, the time to review his rash behavior. Khan's sense of urgency vanished once the job was done, and he took his own time to wash his hands, grinning at the mustached man, who quizzically gazed at him. Ashamed of the rough treatment he had given the man, Khan thought to himself, "I definitely ill-treated him. My bad manners are superseding my age," as he walked to the hand drier. "Sorry, young man," Khan apologized, gathering his wits, managing a sideways glance at the man as hot air rushed onto his hands. Beaming, the man treaded towards Khan, shrugging off any concerns. "No problem, sir. I can understand your urgency. Aren't you Mr. Khan," he asked expectantly.

"Yes, I am the old Khan," Khan replied, very pleased with his ever-rising popularity. "I am Muthu from Chennai," the man said extending his hand. As Khan took his hand, he felt a tiny prick at the back of his neck. After considering it for just a moment, Khan dismissed it as the occasional tingling of his nerves, which had been on the rise with his irregular medication. "I am here just for your talk, sir," the man said, diverting Khan's attention, and opening the door for him.

"Great. I am next in line. Do you want to come with me?"

"Of course! After you," the man walked along with Khan towards the auditorium.

Though it was not unusual for Muthu to befriend his subjects before action unfolded, he felt a sense of remorse momentarily. Khan was too old and he never enjoyed going after helpless and weak subjects, which had become a little too common of late with his current employer. He realized it was tad too late to entertain any kind of regret. He had already initiated an irreversible reaction and he waited to see its result, for his record, if not per his employer's directions. As they entered the auditorium, Khan stumbled, and he held him, preventing what could have been a disastrous fall. Amused by the irony of the situation he was in, the man assisted Khan up the stairs, to the stage, before taking a seat in the front row, waiting for the drama to begin.

##  ___Chapter 14_

Shan was in full steam when Khan got back. "Piracy is a curse, and pirates, thugs of the first order," he declared. The diction was grave and boldly exaggerated, but the crowd, dominated by content owners and creators, agreed unanimously with his sentiment. While the less expressive nodded their concurrence, the most expressive applauded and cheered noisily. "Piracy breeds contempt and crime. Mankind will be saved of those evils if we put an end to piracy." Seeing the audience's ecstatic response to Shan's hyperbole, Khan made a mental note to puff up the numbers he would be quoting in his talk. As Shan continued, Khan felt an unusual sensation run through his body. "To be successful, the fight against piracy has to be multidimensional, integrating legal, economic, social, ethical, and other factors." Shan elaborated on the need to build a robust plan to combat piracy in various forums, online and offline, through concerted efforts, before narrowing down to legal reforms. He observed that stringent laws and their implementation form the foundation for any action and pointed out that the existing law offered little support, and hence calls for reform.

"Indian copyright, information technology and criminal laws," he said, "Must be amended to exercise severe punishment to pirates. Proactive enforcement mechanism, speedy justice, and strong government support is the need of the hour." Before concluding, Shan outlined the sessions planned during the course of Frames, and urged everyone to participate and provide their input to various panels. "This year's Frames," he emphatically proclaimed, "will push the frontiers of creativity, by forming a society free from theft, a society where creators are honoured, and a society built by imaginative minds. Neither an information economy, nor a knowledge economy, ladies and gentlemen," Shan finally proclaimed, "India will soon be known as the creative economy of the world." Amidst resounding applause, Shan strode to his seat, mighty pleased with self.

After a short intervention by the lady in blue, which he barely heard, owing to the pain in his chest, Khan slowly reached the podium. Once Lamba turned the presentation on, he started addressing the audience. "My good friend Shan has told you his story of the pirates of Bollywood. Unlike his movies, this is a true story, most of it untold, for reasons, once again, untold. I am here to tell the story from an economic perspective." The pain in Khan's chest intensified, making him dizzy, and he started perspiring. At this point, continuing the talk required a herculean effort. Summoning all his energies, Khan said, "Losses from piracy are estimated to be more than 20,000 crores ..." Khan's last few words were just a whisper, and he collapsed, holding his chest. Shocked and shaken, the audience sat still. The entire auditorium was motionless and quiet for a fleeting moment. Lamba and Shan were the first to realize what happened.

"Call the doctor please," Lamba shouted as he ran to the stage. Shan, Tagore, and the stunned lady in blue reached Khan before Lamba.

Tagore checked his pulse but found none. Once the audience realized what happened, pandemonium broke. Some ran forward to take a closer look, others tried their best to get pictures and videos, and many tried to rush out of small doorways. Satisfied with the outcome, the mustached man took one last look at Khan's still body, and calmly joined the rushing crowd towards the exit.

##  ___Chapter 15_

That marked the end of the grand old advisor and the eventful beginning of Frames, 2013. Khan's dramatic demise earned him celebrity status and media space for a couple of days after which he was blissfully forgotten. But for a few rumors, no one had any doubt in their mind that he suffered a heart attack and that his death was completely natural. Despite Khan's absence, nothing in Frames changed and business moved on as usual. Many people came, saw, and conquered business opportunities and returned on a happy note. The sessions organized by Shan on piracy were boring, academic, and theoretical and produced no value.

With his key mind out of action, Shan's war on piracy did not start on a positive note. Disheartened though Shan was, he was not set to give up on his quest. He asked Unni, the surviving named partner of Krish and Khan to prepare a comprehensive plan based on Khan's ideas. By virtue of being Khan's only aide during his last days and the only subject matter expert left in the firm, Lamba was the obvious choice for the job. Having planned his career growth around Khan, Lamba was thoroughly disappointed with his abrupt demise, and was pondering over his fate when Shan's project came by. He grabbed the opportunity with both hands, but soon realized that the complexity of the project was beyond his limited knowledge and acumen. To stand up to the grand expectations set by Khan, Lamba needed to work with someone who knew the law and the entertainment industry very well. This necessity led Lamba to Viren Bhatia, a top-notch entertainment lawyer with an impeccable track record. Viren promptly spotted the promise the project held for him and his stature.

If they could somehow pull it off, he was confident that it would propel him to legendary status. So, without any hesitation, Viren agreed to help Lamba in return for due credit and a major role in its implementation. Lamba and Viren, two diverse minds with complementary skills, started working on an ambitious, yet seemingly-plausible strategy to achieve the impossible: to eradicate piracy. They met Shan at regular intervals to update him on their progress and to debate feasibility of their ideas. It was during one such meeting that Lamba received his first threat. "Drop or die," the hoarse voice on the phone warned.

"Drop what," Lamba had asked, bewildered and confused.

"Drop your project with Shan if you do not want to meet Khan in hell."

"Who are you?" Lamba stammered, visibly shaken.

"You don't want to know, Lamba. We know that you are in Shan's office now. Our eyes are everywhere. YOU DROP OR DIE," the voice repeated. Then, the line went dead, leaving Lamba terrified.

"What is wrong," Shan and Viren asked in unison, noticing Lamba's fearful state.

"Someone threatened to kill me, if I continue working on this project. Despite our best efforts to keep this a secret, they seem to know a lot. They even know that I am with you now."

After a short moment of silence, Shan was the first to respond, "Welcome to the club, Lamba. Do not let such calls bother you. It's a daily affair for us. You buckle, they extort; you show some spine, they recede. Besides, I am here to protect you, against all odds. Trust me." Before Lamba could utter a response, Viren spoke, "Welcome to the club, Lamba. You are officially a celebrity now, stalked by nuts." That brought a twisted smile to Lamba's face. By now, Viren knew how to play Lamba, whose fickle mind blew hot and cold in minutes. That was just the beginning though, the anonymous calls continued, worrying Lamba each time, but his desire to succeed always stumped the fear. When Shan's attempts to lobby for legal reforms faced unexpected roadblocks, they came to a conclusion that they were playing against a dangerous rival with high level connections, and large reserves of money. But they did not know, who it was, and how he was getting hold of their confidential information. They were sure about one thing though. Their rival was fighting a faceless war under the garb of anti-copyright militants, free-culture activists and public interest groups. With the failure of law reform efforts, Lamba's project assumed greater importance, forcing them to work out of the box. And so they did, finally arriving at a workable plan to seek their objective, which according to Viren, was to kick piracy's butt. For professional purposes, they referred to it as 'Project Pi', and maintained secrecy on all fronts. Supremely confident and consumed by a false sense of security, they totally disregarded their rival's infiltration into their camp.

##  ___Chapter 16_

The heavy raindrops, swayed by the strong northeasterly wind, pelted the huge glass window overlooking the Arabian Sea. Standing still on the other side of the glass, lost in thought, Shan stared at the white blanket of water. He was alone, almost inconspicuous, in his expansive and largely empty office at Juhu. His white attire topped by his silver hair and diminutive frame, gave him the appearance of a dead spirit portrayed in Bollywood movies.

The rainy evening reminded Shan of his first night in Mumbai, then Bombay, at the Victoria Terminus, the main train station of the city. After running away from his home on the Indo-Pak border to Jaipur, he boarded a passenger train to the city of dreams, aspiring for a career in the film industry as a writer. Apart from the script he wrote, a small bag of clothes, and a paltry sum of money that made a significant portion of his father's life earnings, he carried with him a postcard from his childhood friend, who lived in the city and had agreed to put him up. It took his train three long days to reach Bombay, and Shan survived the journey valiantly, keeping his belongings safe from prying eyes and moving from seat to seat across the train, nomad like. Once he got off the train, Shan searched for a familiar face, but found none. He searched every inch of the railway station and waited for an hour gazing expectantly at the entrance, hoping to find his friend in the sea of people coming in. His friend did not show up, but a heavy rain did, shepherding Shan to the crowded waiting room for shelter. Cold and hungry, he sat there for two long days waiting for the rain to cease. When it finally stopped, Shan realized to his dismay that his friend's letter was lost and he had nowhere to go.

Hopeless and dejected, Shan sat for several hours on a stone bench considering his options, or the lack thereof. Cursing his friend aloud, and crying until he ran out of tears did not help his miserable state; infact, it aggravated it. He wondered if he should take a train and go back home, but his helpless father, his own fragile self esteem, and most importantly, the inherited debt dissuaded him from taking that step. There was too much at stake for him to turn around. Determined to give his aspirations a shot, Shan stood up, picked his bag and slowly walked into the open of arms of the city that was known to work its magic on ordinary people and take them to giddying heights.

That was the first and the last time he ever saw the railway station. Though he never got the opportunity to write for films, the doors that opened for him made up for everything he lost in the bargain. Within a week of his arrival in Bombay, and much before he went through the toil of finding a listening ear to pitch his script, the life-changing incident occurred. At a dormitory, his first shelter in Mumbai, Shan met an old man, who was intricately linked with the world of entertainment, and was looking for a young, dynamic pair of hands to further his cause. After learning about Shan's plight, "Join me, and I will solve your money problems in a few months," the old man assured. Shan was convinced, and was in the man's tiny shed next morning, making copies of music on tape, using the unsophisticated, yet highly effective machine, the old man claimed to have invented. Using his business acumen, Shan helped the old man expand his business network from the suburbs to different developed and developing landscapes of the country. Toiling day and night, they produced tons of inexpensive counterfeit cassettes of Hindi and regional film songs that flooded the market. However controverted and illegal their actions were, they believed in the cause, which was to take music to both the rich and the poor at an affordable price, and of course, fill their pockets. The profit that followed, in the old man's words, was just a side effect of their good deeds. Shan did not complain. The logic worked for him and his bank balance.

Thanks to Shan's unlimited energy, restless spirit and astonishing luck, their business reached humungous proportions within just one year. Shan paid off his parents' debt and moved them to Bombay, where they lived in a more than comfortable settlement. But his good beginning did not last long as the arm of the mafia and the police caught up with his success. Squeezed between mafia factions and cops, Shan and the old man struggled to keep their lives and the business alive. After many nights in police stations and the cold-blooded murder of his old partner, Shan, devastated and petrified, decided on the impending and the inevitable decision to give up the counterfeit business and start afresh.

With the aim of capitalizing on the distribution network he had built, Shan founded a record label and production house, Tunes, in the mid 90s. He invested large amounts of money to acquire movie and music rights of many blockbuster movies at irresistible prices. Very soon, Shan also produced his own movies and music, which met with tremendous success. Under the leadership of Shan, Tunes took just 10 years to reach the top. Soon, his shady background too had been rewritten. Owing to his success and influence in the industry, Shan was soon referred to as the godfather of Bollywood.

As of that moment, Tunes owned more than 40 percent of all the content in Bollywood, and Shan emerged as the most powerful person in the industry. Through conscious efforts, Shan managed to wipe out his past and gained the reputation of being a fair and large-hearted individual, who loved and lived in creativity. Every person in the industry, from the lead actor to the light boy, considered it a privilege to work with Shan, and an invitation from him was considered to be a calling from the god of films.

Shan was responsible for making stars out of many ordinary men, including the present superstar, Raj Khanna, referred to by many as Baadshah of Bollywood, after his first super hit film Baadshah produced by Tunes. Shan's mind was hovering over thoughts of Raj, when his phone buzzed. In a very strange coincidence, Raj was on the line. "Shan, I was informed that our agreement for the new movie will not be on the lines of the old one," he said. "Tell me I got this wrong."

Raj was one of the few people in the industry, who addressed Shan by his name. "Raj, you got it right. We have modified our policies," Shan responded, stern as always. He would have communicated this in person, but for Raj's growing arrogance and dipping respect for the man who had made him a star. "I hope this will have no impact on our prior agreements, Shan."

"I am afraid it might, Raj. We will speak later. I am getting into a meeting now." The prized, antique clock struck 11 as soon as Shan ended the call without waiting for a response. Shan quickly got Raj out of his mind; there were more important things at hand. It was time to get Project Pi rolling.

##  ___Chapter 17_

Alongside Shan, there were five very influential but totally disinterested men, seated at the large conference table. Polished to a shine, the black granite slab that sat heavily on fat teak legs reflected nothing more than shades of gloom. A quick peek into each of their track record against piracy would uncover only burnt fingers and lost money, justifying their apathetic state. To worsen the matters, Lamba was not particularly good with words. His monologue on the perils of piracy was like a moral science lecture, and the diminishing scotch in their glasses was, not surprisingly, more appealing than his presentation.

Speaking in a soft voice that belied his bulky body wrapped in a tight, yet well-fitting black suit, Lamba went on, clearly unperturbed about the mood of the top producers of Bollywood. His strategy was simple, push their expectations as low as possible, before getting to the heart of the matter. That, he felt, would have a whipping effect on the filmmakers, moving them from indifference to deference, when he finally broke the ice.

Subsequent to 40 minutes of statistics on piracy rates and prior management strategies, that achieved his well-planned, mind-numbing effect, Lamba decided to shift gears. "The losses from piracy, as you gentlemen know, are humungous," he said, speaking louder. "A study released recently by the US-India Business Council estimates the losses to the entertainment industry from piracy to be Rs 16,000 crore. Bollywood, as all of you will agree, is the worst hit of all." Lamba paused at this point to lend gravity to what he was about to say. Clenching his fists in an attempt to show anger, he said, "These pirates, thieves of the first order, free riders of creativity and unorganized group of imbeciles, must be stopped. You deserve your hard-earned money and we at Krish and Khan have a simple, effective plan for the same."

The dramatic nature of the statements surprised everyone, although for unexpected reasons. Amused by Lamba's theatrical actions, they stared at him, astonished and very curious. In fact, a couple of them worked very hard to hold back laughter. "Between the six of you, you gentlemen control 90 percent of the content produced in Bollywood and I don't have to tell you how much money that means, if we can kill piracy. The question is, do you want to," Lamba asked, looking around, anticipating unanimous affirmation. But all he got was a bunch of disconcerted faces, looking at each other, and mumbling. Realizing that the meeting might get out of hand if it continued like this, Shan intervened. "Lamba, we, members of the Producers' Guild, have always felt piracy is a complex equation. Most of my friends strongly believe that it cannot be tackled. But you seem to believe otherwise."

"Yes Mr. Shan, we have devised a simple and straight forward strategy to solve the complex problem, and we believe that it will work."

"Oh! And can you enlighten us on this 'simple' plan of yours," Aran, the youngest of the group asked, making no attempt to hide his sarcasm. Having inherited his father's production business, Aran controlled around 10 percent of Bollywood content and was gaining reputation as a talented music composer. Lamba smiled the smile of a preacher about to enlighten his disciples with the fire of knowledge.

##  ___Chapter 18_

Fifteen kilometers away, at the same time, another meeting was in progress. The venue of the meeting was a small, gloomy pub called Alpine, a couple of blocks away from the popular Leopold Cafe in Colaba. The pub's high ceiling, old, yet ornate lights, large, sculpted columns, and stony walls was reminiscent of the British Bombay days. Owing to the heavy rain, and the odd time of day, the pub was literally empty.

Two tables on either side of the entrance to the pub were occupied by well-built, casually dressed men, the bodyguards of the meeting attendees, who did not bother to conceal their guns. From their loud chattering and laid back attitude, it was apparent that they expected no trouble that evening. While the masters were deep in conversation, their bodyguards savored Alpine's home-brewed beer, and flirted with the women at their service.

Despite the reverberating loud music in Alpine's confines, the three attendees of the meeting, dressed in dark overalls, sat in a close huddle and kept their voices low. Though it was a business meeting, the discussion did not start with formal greetings or niceties that formed part of standard corporate etiquette. From the seating arrangement at the table and body language, anyone with a modicum of intelligence would have no trouble in concluding that the man seated at the centre, hooded and wearing tinted glasses, with his back to the wall, a vantage position to observe the door, was in charge. "Your updates Pido," he asked, turning to the man to his right, who was clean shaven and wore sun glasses, despite the lack of light in the room. "The CD and DVD business is going good, Francis. Collections have exceeded targets in northern and eastern regions."

"Numbers?"

"We will touch 4000 crores this quarter. My boys are working hard to sell as much as possible."

"Good work, Pido. Keep going. I will inform the boss about your progress." Then, turning to his left, he looked at the dark, thick-mustached man, whose apprehensive face was lost in the shadows, and asked, "Your report Thambi?"

"Francis, things were going good in both south and west India until last month. But recently, we have had trouble with our Telugu and Tamil agents. They have not paid our dues for three weeks in a row."

"Hmm ... police trouble?"

"No Francis. Police are with us on this. These rogues have moved out of our circuit. They have tied up with local goons and are running their own pirated disc business."

"How are you handling this?"

"As per your earlier instructions, I threatened them, but that did not work. Do you want me to do anything else?"

"No. I will take care." Knowing Francis' violent ways, Thambi was petrified and merely nodded his Acquiescence.

"Anything else?" Francis asked.

"Francis," Pido said, "the Producers guild is in a meeting now. Our contact has sent us a message a few minutes back. A guy by the name Lamba from Kris and Khan is giving a presentation on combating piracy. He apparently has a rock-solid plan."

"I assumed this issue was over with Khan. I believe Shan has arranged this."

"Yes Francis."

"That man has become a pain in the neck. He made it big, and now does not want anyone else to make money," Thambi added with clenched fists.

Waving his hand at Thambi for silence, Francis stated, "Shan will come to terms. Pido, you fill me in, as soon as you gather any further information." Then, he stood up, and got moving. There were no farewell moments. Francis walked out with his bodyguards on his heels, guns drawn. Two black Mercedes Benz G class cars arrived as soon as he stepped out of Alpine, and sped away with his party, before anyone could realize what happened. Amar Pido and Nala Thambi stayed back, for a couple of minutes after Francis left. They exchanged pleasantries, discussed plans, and shook hands, before they also went their separate ways.

##  ___Chapter 19_

"Small things big, big things small," Lamba recalled his mentor's advice as he commenced his presentation. Khan drilled it into his head that taking the audience by surprise was the key to a successful business pitch in the entertainment sector. To achieve this effect, Khan advocated a simple strategy. "Make small things look world shattering, and complicated things look simple." That day, Lamba decided to test his mentor's advice, in an attempt to convince office bearers of the Producers' Guild, who rarely came to a consensus on any business proposal. To his advantage, though the producers disagreed on most things, piracy was not one of them, and they always battled piracy together. By virtue of this, Lamba's primary goal of the presentation was to persuade them on the feasibility and the business benefits of his plan, rather than on the need to fight piracy.

"Gentlemen," Lamba said, "Many management experts and lawyers have tried various strategies to find a solution to the detrimental problem of piracy, but failed miserably. We at Krish and Khan, hold the legacy to succeed where others could not, and I am glad to present our unique solution." Pausing at this point, Lamba made eye contact with the luminaries and switched to the next slide. Dramatic, though his actions were, he managed to get attention of every one at the table. Kodi Vadivelu, a south Indian film producer, who made it big in Bollywood, put his glass aside and spoke for the first time in the meeting. "Mr. Lamba, please proceed to the plan. We have no time to waste." Everyone nodded in agreement and looked at Lamba in anticipation. Engrossed in Lamba's theatrics, no one noticed Saheb Zakir switch the voice recorder of his mobile phone on.

A very successful producer of action films, Zakir, arguably held the most sought-after movie catalogue in Bollywood. Though his catalogue had only 30 entries, owing to his high budgets, which set the records for production expenses in the industry, Zakir always worked with the top artistes, and that ensured good connections in the industry. The two, indifferent independent film producers at the table, Dharma Kapoor and Harvinder Singh re-filled their whisky glasses for the fourth time as Lamba started on his plan. They made movies and sold all rights to large production houses for profitable margins. As they gave away copyrights in their movies, the topic of the presentation was the least of their concerns. Piracy was their buyer's headache, and it did not bother them. They were here, only to have a drink and enjoy the rainy afternoon.

##  ___Chapter 20_

"Our proposed piracy plan, Project Pi, is a three-year program that involves a three-pronged strategy," Lamba started to explain.

"Prong 1: Attack where it hurts

Our strategy is to have an explosive start. We attempt something no one tried earlier, and through that create a big bang in the heart of piracy. The idea is to hurt pirates, where it hurts the most. We start by attacking hubs and factories of pirates using the Central Bureau of Investigation (CBI) and Anti Terrorist Squads (ATS) as our agents."

"Are you out of your mind Lamba? Do you even know how CBI and ATS operate? Don't take us for fools," Aran literally shouted. Nodding vigorously, the others agreed with his emotion, all talking at a time, a few expletives here and there. Even Kapoor and Singh put their glasses away for the first time that day, and gave Lamba a hard stare.

Having provoked the planned response, Lamba turned radiant. "I agree gentlemen, it is by no means an easy task. But as you all know, Krish and Khan is reputed for its miracles. We come in, where others have given up. Our team has devised a fool proof plan to engineer this and I'll need your unflinching support. The links and connections between film piracy, organized crime, and terrorism is well known, and has been the subject of discussion in enforcement circles for some time now. We will use the piracy-terrorism linkage to involve CBI and ATS. The latest update from our liaison team is that a top official of ATS is with us and would be happy to co-operate if we take care of his not so expensive needs."

"Oh. That is interesting. What do we achieve with this? And most importantly, how much would it cost us?" Vadivelu asked, opening his notepad. Vadivelu, the fund raiser of the guild, was a man of numbers and most of his decisions revolved around cost/profit analysis.

"Through this step, we will achieve two important things. One, we will strike at the heart of piracy, the places where pirated content is created. And two, by involving CBI and ATS, we send a message about the magnitude of their offence, creating fear in the minds of pirates, we hope to cut their sources off. In terms of finances, it should not cost us more than a few hundred crores," Lamba replied, in a matter-of-fact tone.

"What! Couple of hundred Crores!" Vadivelu grunted. Though all of them were big budget movie producers, the number shocked them and Lamba was the subject of their undivided wrath. With a mix of incredulity, anger and shock, all of them looked at their president, Shan, for help.

"Let us hear what he has to say. Remember, he is only proposing a plan. It is up to us to take it forward or leave it," Shan said, diffusing the emotions, and waving at Lamba to proceed.

"Prong2: Court Action," Lamba continued. "This prong involves the use of the court system for our purposes. We pick and choose our targets at different levels in the piracy chain, and go after them by filing law suits. We will hire the best IP lawyers across the country to represent us against pirates. Under the leadership of Mr. Viren Bhatia, who, as you are aware, is the best entertainment lawyer in India, our team of lawyers will acquire and execute court orders."

"Who are our targets and what orders would we seek?" Zakir asked, intrigued by Lamba's exposition.

"We will target everyone in the chain from persons pirating films to persons distributing the content. And we will pray in the courts for all kinds of civil and criminal orders possible, Mr. Zakir," Lamba explained. "However, as you probably know, final resolution of a dispute by a court could take a long time, if contested. So, our team will focus on getting temporary orders such as injunctions and John Doe orders, and ex parte decisions of permanent injunctions and damages, in uncontested cases."

"What Dough orders?" Aran asked, clearly unaware of the injunctive measure extensively used against piracy. "John Doe and Jane Doe orders are orders given against unknown, large-scale, and prospective pirates. By acquiring an order, we can prevent copyright piracy by serving advance notices and taking preventive and pro-active action, online and offline. For example, we can stop internet service providers like BSNL, Airtel, and so on from making copies of any new film available online by blocking links. If we turn out lucky, we may also be able to shut certain websites completely, and go after people, who sell, buy or download our movies illegally. The orders may also be used to take action against physical stores, vendors, and so on. Of course, having used them, some of you are well aware of these."

"Wow, I did not know that this was a possibility," Aran said enthusiastically. Encouraged by Aran's positive response, Lamba elaborated further. "Yes Mr. Aran, it is possible. Many Indian producers have used this to reduce piracy. Films like Bodyguard, Dhoom, Singam, and several others have earlier acquired these orders and also benefited from them."

"With our very fast and transparent court system, how can you ensure that we get favorable orders in time? By magic?" Kapoor questioned, dripping sarcasm. His friend Singh nodded in agreement and took a swig of whisky displaying indifference to what followed.

"I agree, Mr. Kapoor," Lamba responded, "I am not saying that we would get decisions in our favor in all the cases. By picking the right party to sue, employing the best lawyers, and appealing to judges who will suit us, we might maximize our chances. In fact, our aim is to send a strong message about our intention, rather than winning every single case. That message will by itself mitigate piracy by 30 to 40 percent. Just like you, many people detest even being pulled to the court, let alone fight a case."

"How much will this cost?" Vadivelu asked once again. Having scanned the numbers several times with Shan, Lamba had them on his finger tips. "It would not exceed 50 crores. And I guarantee that you will earn this money in less than six months, Mr. Vadivelu," he assured. At this instance, Zakir walked out of the conference hall. He went to the rest room, and placed a call to update his contact about the proceedings. Five minutes later, he was back, and was surprised to see that the presentation was paused for him.

"Now, you may continue," Shan told Lamba, as soon as Zakir took his seat. "Sure Mr. Shan.

"Prong 3: Hunting Sellers and Buyers. Hunting consumers, end users, sellers and buyers of pirated content forms an integral part of our fight against piracy. With the help of the police force, local lawyers, and private agencies, we shall organize raids on sellers as well as buyers of pirated movies and music. The raids will be aimed at seizure of discs and arrests, followed by relevant criminal proceedings. For piracy on the internet, a special team will be set up to monitor, identify, block and take down the pirated content from sources on the web. This team will use technology to block piracy and pirates. They will focus on both the online businesses and individuals. Once buyers and downloaders of our content are identified, online and offline notices will be sent to them. These notices will threaten civil and criminal action unless the individual would sign up for our anti-piracy program and pay compensation for prior violations. We will target high profile individuals in the society and publicize the same to send a strong message to the common man. The social stigma against piracy, we believe, will work very well to reduce the evil and establish our seriousness. To summarize, we use legal, physical, digital, psychological, and ethical routes to curb piracy. Our publicity team will ensure that the information is spread far and wide to get the best possible effect. We will, in short, shake the society and ensure it is free from piracy."

"What do you expect this whole activity to cost?" Vadivelu asked, once again interested only in the finances of the plan. "About 300 hundred crores, including our professional fee," Lamba said, once again very casually. The plan was to show that the plan would work, and that it was not a huge price to pay for the returns it can possibly fetch.

"What kind of returns are we to expect?" Shan asked. The purpose of this pre-planned question was to convince the others of its financial benefits. Irrespective of their circumspection, Shan was confident that the producers would vote for the plan irrespective of its implementation cost, if they sniffed the probability of earning good returns from their investment.

"As per our current estimates, if we can reduce piracy by just 10 percent, we are looking at a benefit of around 2000 crores per year. The returns, if this plan works, would be very lucrative," Lamba said, showing a table of expected returns for different percentages on the screen.

"Do we have to pay 300 crores every year?" Vadivelu asked, looking at some calculations he scribbled on his notepad. "No Sir. This budget is for three years."

"It looks like a very expensive affair. Can you guarantee the results?" Aran asked.

"Mr. Aran, as you know, no one can predict 100 percent results in this kind of an activity. But, I can tell you that you will definitely get a return of at least double your investment," Lamba replied, pointing to the last row in the table on his slide.

"If we do go ahead with this, how much would each of us have to pay as capital investment?" Zakir asked, looking at Shan.

"Zakir, we could arrive at a contribution policy based on an objective formula, after comprehensive discussions. It is to be based on amount of content each person owns, nature of activities he wishes to be involved in, and so on. But, that is not important now. Right now, we must decide, if this gentleman's proposal makes sense, and whether it is worth our while to pursue it seriously. On matters of such significance, haste won't take us anywhere," Shan cautioned. Then, he looked at Lamba, and said, "Mr. Lamba, do you have anything else to add?"

"No Sir, I am done with my presentation. You will find all the information in the proposal as well."

"Excellent, Lamba. We will discuss, and get in touch, if and when we make a decision."

"Sure Sir. Thanks a lot for the opportunity." Then, Lamba packed up his laptop, shook hands, and left.

Lamba had played his part to perfection, and it was now Shan's turn. The convincing job was tougher than Shan expected and he achieved very little that day. Kapoor and Singh were dead against the proposal and Zakir sided with them. So, it took Shan several personal interactions, replacement of office bearers, lobbying and six long months to finally get the project going. He could have gone ahead with Project Pi by himself, but that would not fit into his scheme of things and the populist image to the programming that he envisioned.

##  ___Chapter 21_

"Is that all?" Helen asked.

"Yes Madam, that is all I know," Lamba replied, upset with her question. He told her everything there was, barring the part about bribing the enforcement agencies. Though he trusted Helen, Lamba felt pangs of guilt for opening up Project Pi to a third party. He had breached his oath of secrecy with Shan, and he was not very proud of himself for doing so.

"Mr. Lamba, did you receive any threatening calls after Viren's murder," Helen asked, interrupting his train of thought.

"No," Lamba said, looking at his phone, when, all of a sudden, it started ringing. "Private Number. It must be him," his voice trailed away, and he began trembling.

"It's alright Mr. Lamba. Answer the call on speaker. I would like to listen." Helen moved to a seat closer to Lamba, and strategically placed her phone to get as clear a recording as possible. Though it was a long shot, she planned to run the recording on the voice recognition software, the Mumbai Police recently acquired, for a possible match.

"Lamba, I saw you at Viren's office. Did you get a good look at your friend?" the mechanized voice asked ominously. Pausing for a few seconds for a response and getting none, the voice continued. "Now that you can foresee your fate, I believe you will drop rather than die. Just in case, you have not made up your mind, I will make it easy for you. For a slimy person like you, I assure you that your end won't be as painless as Viren's."

"Who are you," Lamba managed, wiping the beads of sweat from his forehead.

"Your worst nightmare."

Switching to an amicable tone abruptly, the caller said, "I can, however, be your best friend, always ready to help, provided, of course, you switch sides. What are friends for?"

"You ...," Lamba could only manage a meaningless mumble.

"I hope you value your life as much as I do," the caller said, before the line went dead.

Visibly shaken, Lamba sat still. Helen empathized with him, though she could not think of anything sensible to say. She had never been comfortable with emotional situations, and resented false hopes. Whenever she was in such a situation, Helen would rather take flight than fight. And that is exactly what she did now and managed to skip Lamba's emotional breakdown in a whisker.

"Thanks for your help, Mr. Lamba. I will contact you if I need further information. Take care," Helen had said, but Lamba did not hear a word. He sat sobbing, his body shaking uncontrollably, his mind filled with fear, fear of losing everything he dreamt of; the fear one feels when one's life is about to be snatched away.

##  __ Part II

## Three Months Later

## The Raids

## Chapter 22

If it weren't for Shan, Project Pi would have never seen the light of day. Though many film producers claimed to be behind the project, everyone knew that it was Shan's brain child and most of them tacitly conceded to the fact behind closed doors. The going was not easy for Shan; it took tough lobbying and ego pampering to get a majority of Bollywood producers to go with him. At the end, Shan neither cared about recognition nor money; he just wanted to get the project through. When he finally accomplished the goal, Shan managed to put together 400 crores, a sum of 100 crores from his own coffers.

Consensus reached and funds handy, Shan set up a body to monitor, manage and implement the project. It was called the Alliance against Copyright Piracy, ACP for short. As it was the first ever producer coalition in India to fight piracy in an organized manner, ACP's formation received unprecedented media attention. It was dubbed as the Shahenshah of Bollywood, in true filmy style. Shan, Zakir and Singh who were unanimously elected to the management team of ACP, worked hard to ignore the media attention and focus on the task at hand. Working in close proximity with Lamba and his team, ACP devised a time bound plan of action for implementation of the project and approved all steps in one shot. The strategy was to attack all levels in the piracy chain simultaneously and create a big bang. Given the detailed planning, sheer magnitude and unique multi-level approach, Shan was confident that it would produce terrific results.

Though Lamba did not share Shan's confidence, he nevertheless went along. Viren's image haunted him often, but the value of the project for his future always trumped his fears. It was the first of its kind offensive against piracy in the world and he knew it would be stupid of him to not be a part of it. Besides, the intimidating calls had surprisingly ceased since Helen's visit, dipping his fear levels substantially. Weighing all factors, Lamba decided to take his chances with Project Pi and hoped that he would not regret his decision.

##  ___Chapter 23_

Ilahi slowly walked out of his home, a small and dingy room, where six people lived in absolute disharmony. Although not the oldest of the surviving men in the family, he was easily the most responsible. Living with two loving sisters, an alcoholic father, and an extremely selfish brother who never provided for the family, was far from easy for Ilahi. Though he was only eighteen years old, Ilahi was the family's only bread winner, and he took that duty seriously. Precisely for this reason, unlike his peers, Ilahi made a conscious attempt to stay away from activities that could get him into trouble or put him out of action. Clinging to his large, tattered air bag filled with discs, Ilahi strode from Dharawi to Bandra, praying for a good beginning to change his family's plight. Ilahi's empty stomach groaned, as if it read his mind, reminding him of the fate that awaited his family if he failed to make the day count.

Immersed in thoughts, he took 15 minutes to reach the Bandra railway station, where he quickly hopped into the tightly packed train that ran the Western line. Oddly, standing amidst the pack of his compatriots, pushing and shoving to stay afloat, Ilahi felt at home.

Twenty minutes later, he stepped out of Malad station and headed towards the piracy point. Once he reached the basement of the old, dilapidated building round the corner, Ilahi reported to the security guard, exchanged old discs for new releases, and went to meet the fat man in charge of the piracy business in that neighborhood.

"We have five new hindi movies releasing today. We have master prints for three of them on disc, including one starring Baadshah. You must work hard to sell well," the man said, eyeing Ilahi through his thick glasses.

"I will do my best," Ilahi replied, smiling.

"Young man, these are tough times. You must do better than your best", the man launched into his pep talk. At the end, after a series of standard marketing tips and tricks, the man wished him good luck and moved his attention to the next in line.

Thanking the man, Ilahi made his way towards his spot for the day, hoping for the new movies, especially the one starring Baadshah, to fetch him good sales. While turning left at the plush Infinity Mall on Chincholi Bunder Road, Ilahi wondered if he would someday be able to set up a shop in the mall. When he reached his point opposite Movie Time theatre, Ilahi laid a bed sheet on the sidewalk, adjoining Sun, Moon and Potatoes, a small eatery, and methodically arranged the merchandize on it. The organization of the discs was simple; he stacked Hindi, English and Regional film DVDs and Music CDs at three different parts of the bed sheet, with the new releases displayed on the top of each stack.

Once all was set, Ilahi made a small make shift tent to endure the heat and sat waiting. It did not take him long to get started with his business that morning. Within 10 minutes, he sold his first copy, and thereafter, his new film stocks rapidly diminished. By afternoon, Ilahi was pleased with his sales and allowed himself the pleasure of a glass of fresh mango juice from the eatery. He was thoroughly enjoying every sip of the delicious and refreshing drink when his peripheral vision caught sight of trouble heading his way.

##  ___Chapter 24_

Despite sincere efforts of the crime branch, Viren's murder remained a mystery, and all leads hit dead ends. The farthest Helen could get with her efforts to elicit police interest in Viren's death was merely a few raised brows. The incidents never went out of Helen's mind though, they circled around in her head like bees and she kept spinning theories based on whatever little evidence she had on hand.

Three months after the incident, Helen sat at her desk, reviewing for the nth time the files of Viren and the other IP lawyers, who had met the same fate as Viren, when her telephone rang. Shivaji was on the line. "Helen, it is time to get moving with the orders. The wait is finally over."

Excited with the news, Helen asked, "The teams are prepared, sir. When can we go?"

"This afternoon, 2 p.m. make sure that our boys don't tamper with the evidence. We don't want stapled cds, or drilled diskettes."

"That won't happen, sir. I reviewed the procedure with them several times."

"Don't be so confident Helen. They are damn good at springing surprises."

"I understand, sir. I will stay vigilant." As soon as she hung up, the old clock in the room struck 12 indicating that she had only 2 hours to go, just enough time to instruct all the station officers. To prevent tip offs, Helen deliberately withheld information about the exact plan and time of the raids. The nexus between the police and the criminals was well known to all and Helen did everything possible to keep the surprise element alive. After methodically passing orders to all stations, Helen grabbed a quick lunch with Atre and started on her pirate chase. Their duty, as per Shivaji's instructions, was to physically monitor as many raids as possible. The raid at their first stop, Andheri West, the seat of many leading film production houses was uneventful. They accompanied a group of police men into a dilapidated warehouse, well known to keep stocks of pirated discs, and seized hundreds of them after arresting three, unusually submissive men. Then, Helen stopped at Oshiwara police station, Best Colony, and Link Road, without incident, before reaching Malad. After a short conversation with the inspector supervising the raids in the area, Helen turned pensive and instructed her driver to head to Chincholi Bunder Road.

##  ___Chapter 25_

From the body language and line of vision of the fast approaching policemen, Ilahi was certain they were gunning for him. Throwing away his plastic juice container, he quickly assembled the bedsheet with the discs, and tied what they call a dhobi's knot. Some of the DVDs fell out, but Ilahi stayed focused on the escape. A quick glance at the police told him that it was time to run. Holding his bag in one hand and the bundle in the other, he started running as if he was being chased by wild dogs.

Already at the third arrest that afternoon, the two young spirited policemen instantly initiated a determined chase. While they covered the distance between them and Ilahi, one of the policemen turned the radio on and sent across a status message to their van, which was waiting round the corner.

Anticipating this moment some day, Ilahi rehearsed the escape route several times after he chose his place of business. He had to turn right, then a quick left before reaching a wall, jumping from which, he would land in a maze of alleys, and be lost in no time. It was a one-minute act during practice, but when the moment of truth arrived, anxiety was getting the better of Ilahi. As soon as he managed to get to the right turn, Ilahi risked a quick glance at his pursuers and realized that he would not make it with the sack weighing him down. Thinking fast, he threw the DVD bundle in the direction of the police men, got rid of his slippers, and sprinted, like a prize athlete.

Ilahi's thin frame and bare feet carried him swiftly to the left turn, much faster than his heavy-booted pursuers. By the time the policemen reached the DVD sack, he was out of their sight. Ilahi soon reached the wall and was about to scale it, when he heard a car screech to a halt behind him. Ignoring the sound, he started to climb, when a voice shouted, "STOP. DON'T MOVE." It was a female voice, and Ilahi for a moment thought he was hallucinating.

"Stop or I will shoot," Helen warned again, while Ilahi tried to swing his legs over the wall. But before he reached the top, a strong, heavy hand caught one of his legs and dragged him down. Ilahi fell on his back, his head narrowly missing a sharp stone. Before he could come to his senses, Atre pulled him to his feet, and handed him over to the young policemen, who had just arrived.

A few moments ago, seeing Ilahi elude the policemen, Helen, who was passing by, had asked her driver to chase him. With help from the good reflexes of the driver, they managed to get to Ilahi just in time to prevent him from escaping. Content with the success of her pursuit, Helen was getting into her car, when Ilahi broke down. With tear-filled eyes, he pleaded, "Madam, can you please let me go. My family is dependent on me."

"Shut Up," one of the police men yelled, while they hand cuffed him.

Forcing her eyes away, Helen slowly sat in her car and gestured her driver to get moving. As the car passed Ilahi, Helen gazed at his innocent face, and felt sorry for him. It was Friday noon, and the man would be locked up over the weekend and presented in court only on Monday morning. Helen doubted if there would be anyone to represent him, let alone bail him out.

"This man was not a terrorist, not a murderer and not even a thief; he was just a small DVD vendor trying to make a living. What was I thinking when I took the gun out," she questioned herself, and it made her terribly upset. All of a sudden, Helen found it difficult to accept that selling pirated movies was as wrong as she believed. "Where to, Madam?" her driver asked, interrupting the debate in her head.

Helen checked her notepad and half-heartedly said, "Head to Liberty Garden. That will be our next stop in Malad." While the car rolled on, Helen's mind once again went back to a philosophical realm. "Will the means justify the end?" she couldn't help questioning the operation. Unlike a few hours ago, she was suddenly not certain.

##  _Chapter 26_

Away from the cacophony of city life, the farm house in the Nallamala forest range offered Arjun Mamidi a perfect environment to relax and unwind. Chirping birds, ruffling leaves, humming insects and mooing cows were like music to his ears. Despite his busy court schedule, Arjun never missed an opportunity to visit his client's farm house close to the village, Pavuralagutta. Along with the delicious food in the offing, Arjun thoroughly enjoyed the long walks with his dog, Neo, a healthy Labrador, fawn in color and above average intelligence, who happily accompanied Arjun as his guide in the wilderness.

Arjun's success in the extensively reported Berminger case, a vicious patent battle, transformed him from a struggling lawyer to one of the most popular IP attorneys in the country. Fighting for a noble cause, Arjun had succeeded in defeating Berminger, a large multi-national company, which was seeking to profit from a viral epidemic by creating a deliberate scarcity for its patented drug. Arjun's ingenious plan and selfless effort to save lives of infected patients, notwithstanding threats to his own life, made him a hero and gave him good visibility.

Thereafter, numerous opportunities came his way, and Arjun enthusiastically grabbed them. However, after three years of persistent hard work, low bank balance, diminishing quality of efforts in each case, and lack of time for his family, made Arjun wonder if he was doing things right. Hence, despite many pressing issues on hand, he decided to get away from Hyderabad for a weekend, to introspect, and hopefully, give direction to his fast paced career.

That overcast Saturday morning, after having a sumptuous breakfast, Arjun wanted to take a reflective stroll into the forest. But, his wife, Shreya, a stunning, stern woman, had other plans. She wanted to go to the village, and fetch groceries from the market, before the imminent rain came down. Reading Arjun's mind, "Don't go out of the house now. We will take a walk, as soon as I return," she ordered, driving away with Neo. As soon as the sound of the car faded, Arjun wore his new Nike sneakers, picked his lightweight carbon cane, and stepped out of the house, smiling at his wife's over protective nature.

Navigating his way through the city was quite easy for Arjun; he had specific sign posts in the form of road humps, sidewalks or clear edges to the road. But the village with winding mud roads had no walk ways, only thick foliage and grass cover, which was a different ball game altogether. "The key is to remember the turns and distance between them," Arjun told himself as his cane touched the grass and he took the first right turn. After two rights and a left, Arjun could feel the thick plant cover of the forest take over. The feel of nature and the incense of wilderness quickly transported him to a state of blissful trance. He paused every few steps to stretch out his arms and enjoy the cool soothing breeze on his face.

After 15 minutes of delightful stroll, Arjun contemplated on heading back when a fat drop of water fell on his temple, reminding him of Shreya's instructions. He did not have to think much about what he must do. Quickly turning around, he barely took two steps, when it started pouring. "Walk straight ahead for 20 feet and take a right", he told himself, breaking into a jog, waving his cane in quick arches. Unfortunately for Arjun, the rain pelted down something fierce and the depth of flooding water reached his ankles in no time; his cane could barely touch the ground, making it very difficult for him to trace his way back.

At what he felt was the right point, Arjun swerved to the right, and immediately fell backwards, his head ramming into a low lying branch. The impact was mind numbing and left him disoriented. It took him more than a minute to understand what happened and take an inventory of the damage to his body. Instinctively holding his throbbing, bleeding nose, Arjun slowly struggled to his feet as surges of pain ran through his head. When he could finally control his pain, Arjun quickly bent down and groped for his cane in outward concentric circles. To his utter dismay, he soon realized that his light-weight cane had gone with the stream, and that he was for all practical purposes, stranded.

##  ___Chapter 27_

"What the hell," Arjun yelled at the top of his voice. Lost and frustrated, he could not think straight. Drenched from head to toe, with a potentially broken nose and his cane lost, he tried hard to focus on a possible way out of the terrible situation, he unwittingly walked into.

At that helpless moment, all he could think of was Shreya. "You must not walk into dangerous situations in the name of exploration. Arjun, I love you and find it very unsettling when you ignore your safety," she had told him time and again, often bursting into tears. Arjun always disregarded Shreya, deeming her overly emotional, until, one day, he narrowly missed what could have been a terrible accident, while crossing a busy road. He felt fortunate at surviving it with only minor injuries. Left with no option, he vowed to a panic stricken, unrelenting Shreya that he would not take any avoidable risks. Despite his helpless situation, Arjun wondered if Shreya would feel let down on learning about Arjun's latest venturing.

Deafening claps of thunder interrupted Arjun's musings, and jolted him to his senses. He cried out for help as loudly as he could, every attempt sending a wave of pain through his head. His attempts remained in vain as the heavy blanket of water that surrounded him did not take his cries too far. Realizing his sound strategy was not working, Arjun slowly moved forward, one hand shielding his face, and the other stretched out in the front, in what he felt was the direction of the house. Balancing on his hind leg, he slowly moved his front one in an arch to explore the terrain before placing the next step. Weary of shouting, he started whistling as he inched forward.

Though he was not sure if he was on the right course, Arjun was happy with his progress. His short spell of happiness, however, vaporized, when he reached a thick brush of plants, forcing him to a halt. Disappointed, Arjun was contemplating his next move, when he heard a familiar sound. Initially, it was distant, muffled, but quickly got loud and clear. Before his mind processed the message, Neo sprang from the foliage onto Arjun, almost bringing him to the ground with his weight.

"Thanks Neo," Arjun mumbled, bending down to pat his dog, who had made it a habit to rescue him. Now that an expert navigator was at his service, Arjun held the leash and reached the house in less than two minutes. On seeing Arjun's bloody face, Shreya did not utter a word. She rushed in to fetch her first aid kit. Ignoring the spirit burning through his wounds, Arjun tried to talk to his wife, but to no avail. Pushing his hands away, she cleaned and bandaged the wounds in silence.

When done, Shreya said, "Want some coffee?"

"Yes. Actually ..."

She cut him off, "Don't move from that chair until I return," she ordered. This time, Arjun had no intent to disobey. He plainly nodded, not wanting to scorn her further.

Waiting for coffee, Arjun was cursing his fragile state, when his phone rang. It was Jose Fenil, his malayali assistant, who was on his honey moon. "My dear Jose," Arjun said, "you must not call me when you are on a pleasure trip."

"Arjun, I missed my flight. That stupid, confused, mindless travel agent informed me that the flight was at seven. When we went to the airport, they informed me that the flight had left at seven in the morning. I will sue the airlines and the agent, if they do not return my money," Jose yelled, his temper out of control.

Hearing Jose on the phone, Neo, who was sitting next to Arjun flexed his ears, and barked his response. "See? Neo agrees with me," Jose remarked joyfully.

"Calm down Jose, we will look into it when I return. Did you call me for this?"

"No, of course not. Did you not see the news? There has been a country-wide drive against piracy. The CBI and police have raided and arrested several people involved. Some politicians have also been arrested," Jose said laughing aloud.

"You called me to give this news update?"

"No, Arjun. Please let me finish for once. Our office boy's brother, Ranga Reddy, is one of the arrested persons. The office boy just called me. The fellow is scared out of his wits. He just wouldn't stop crying."

"Ok. Why don't you enlarge him on bail immediately?" Arjun asked.

"I called the police station, and they informed me that he will be presented in Court on Monday morning. He might have to spend two nights in jail."

"I doubt that, Jose," Arjun said, "Copyright infringement is a bailable offence in Andhra Pradesh. The police will have to give bail, if a bond or surety is given."

"Is that so? I did not know that."

"Why don't you meet with the officer in charge of the police station, and get our man out of custody. I will try coming back tonight."

Shreya overheard the conversation and heaved a sigh of relief. She was anyway considering coaxing Arjun into returning home, and meeting a doctor. "So, as usual, you are cutting short this holiday as well" she asked, feigning disappointment. She did not allow Arjun to respond. She continued, "I will agree to this, only if you agree to visit the doctor, first thing tomorrow morning."

"Your wish is my command, Mademoiselle," Arjun said, holding Shreya's hand, bowing and gently kissing it. Shreya grinned wide, a twinkle sneaking into her talkative, round eyes.

##  ___Chapter 28_

"We are all over the place. Print media, television, radio, internet, you name it. The offensive against piracy is the focus of every one in India, and internationally as well. True to my word, Project Pi is here to stay," Lamba proclaimed, almost bouncing of the walls with excitement. There was a spring in his stride as he walked back and forth, addressing the ACP.

Having seen some of the news reports, the members in attendance, Shan, Zakir and Singh shared his joy, but were eager for more updates. "This is great news, Lamba. Could you give us your report on the raids?" Shan asked, referring to the first entry in the agenda . A press conference was scheduled on Monday morning, and Shan wanted to be well informed before making a statement.

"The raids went better than expected Mr. Shan. Both CBI and the police have stayed true to their promises and initiated the raids on Friday at around 2 p.m. While the CBI focused on piracy factories, where DVDs and CDs are manufactured, the police focused on the distribution chain from suppliers to sellers. Thousands of arrests have been made so far across 20 cities. Some local politicians have also been arrested. My team will send a written report by the end of day today."

"Do you have the numbers for Mumbai?" Zakir asked, turning his phone recorder on.

"Yes Mr. Zakir. About 150 arrests have been made in Mumbai alone. I was informed that Officers Shivaji and Helen of the ATS personally monitored the police efforts. Thanks to us, jails in Mumbai are filled to the brim."

"Oh! It looks like we don't have much jail space, just like residential space in the great city," Zakir said, trying to sound witty. But no one cared about his attempt at humor, except Lamba, who laughed aloud.

"What is the update on this from South India?" Shan asked, ignoring Zakir's remark.

"Reports indicate that more than 200 arrests have been made in Hyderabad, Chennai and Bangalore, put together," Lamba announced, brimming with pride. "The good news is that the South Indian Film industry is contributing to the effort in a major way. They see great value in the action against piracy, and are putting their power and influence to use to make this a success. Some of them even wished to contribute funds and join ACP."

"That's wonderful news," Zakir said, clapping. The news brought a smile to Shan's face, but as always, Singh did not react, he just sipped on his whisky while Lamba elucidated on the raids in different cities. "Overall," Lamba concluded, "we have successfully sent a strong message to pirates. They now know that they will not be spared. Our lawyers will drill that message into them on Monday, when they are presented in the court. We have hired the best in the country to ensure that the message to pirates is loud and clear."

"Good. What's the update on our efforts online?" Shan enquired, moving on.

"A special team of 50 people are working day and night on taking down pirated content off the internet. They are using various means from blocking websites, infecting files, and sending notices. Numerous notices have already been sent to take the offending websites down, also to networks, and internet service providers. Some of them have already removed the pirated content, but there is still a long way to go. This, as I mentioned earlier, will take some time to show substantial results. In the mean time, our team has shortlisted a few file-sharing websites based out of India, and will soon be filing cases against them."

"What are you doing about the recently publicized file sharing platform launched by students of Indian Institute of Technology, Bombay (IITB)? I have seen lot of news about the pirated content available on that platform," Zakir asked.

"Mr. Zakir, we have gathered all information about their venture, SHARE. It is in fact a big threat for us as every new movie's master print is on SHARE on the same day of release. Our lawyers will go after them shortly. We wish to avoid any sort of back lash."

"Anything else?" Singh asked apathetically, standing up to fetch a new bottle of whisky. "Almost done Sir," Lamba continued. "We will file cases against a few high-profile individuals and companies, who we believe are contributing to piracy, in about two weeks' time. We will show you the list and take your approval before proceeding."

At that point, Zakir said, "Could you please excuse me" and walked out with his phone.

"Have you encountered any hurdles so far? Is there anything to worry about" Shan enquired.

"Nothing worth your attention, sir. Everything is going as planned," Lamba replied, smiling.

"Good work so far Lamba. Remember that we must not relax until the end," Shan said, standing up to shake Lamba's hand.

"Thank you, sir. I will meet you same time, next Sunday with more updates." Lamba then shook hands with Singh and finally with Zakir who just returned, and took his leave.

Once Lamba was gone, Shan briefed Singh and Zakir about his plan for ACP's first press conference. They agreed on everything Shan said, and promised to meet at nine, half an hour before the scheduled time of the conference on Monday morning.

After every one left, Shan stayed back and poured a drink for himself. The start was way better than what he expected, and he hoped for good fortune to continue to the next phase.

##  ___Chapter 29_

Arjun's drive back to Hyderabad was uneventful, except for Neo's discomfort with sitting in the back seat, all alone. He squealed every two minutes, expressing his intent to move to the front. Swayed by his unyielding requests, Arjun gave Neo an opportunity, but he ruined it in two minutes by fiddling with the gear rod. From then on, Neo had to stay content with himself at the back, with a few bananas from Arjun, and loving pats from Shreya, who drove with several breaks to amuse him.

They got home late at night, and Arjun woke up on Sunday morning to the loud, familiar voice and barks in the drawing room. "Is there any day Neo will let me sleep in?" Arjun complained good naturedly while sleepily making his way out of the bedroom. "Good morning. Rise and shine sleepy head," his friend Dr. Sridhar greeted him, attempting in vain to escape from Neo's licking expedition. Arjun and Sridhar were not only best of friends from school days, but were also involved in the much publicized Berminger case, in the midst of a national health crisis. In fact, Sridhar was instrumental in hiring Arjun for the case, which transformed his life.

On seeing Arjun, Neo finally spared Sridhar, and ran in the former's direction. "What the hell are you doing in my house early in the morning?" Arjun asked, embracing Sridhar. "Came here to meet my buddies Shreya, and the naughty Neo."

"Sridhar is here to examine your ugly face," Shreya said, walking in with three cups, and a huge bowl of ginger tea. She placed the cups on the table and the bowl on a small stool next to the sofa.

"This guy drinks tea?" Sridhar asked, unable to believe his eyes as Neo noisily gulped his tea.

"Yes, he thinks he is one among us. Eats and drinks like us. He has a special liking for Scotch," Arjun replied, pulling a fast one on Sridhar.

"Are dogs allowed to drink alcohol?"

"Well, Neo for one does not consider himself a dog, and he thinks he has the right."

"It's quite a task to deprive him of anything. And his alcoholism worries me," Shreya added, placing her loving hand on Neo, playing along.

"Ok," Sridhar said, astonished, gazing open-mouthed at the heavy Labrador.

Once they were done with tea, Dr. Sridhar examined Arjun's bruised nose. "There is a deep cut, but I don't think you would need any stitches." He then turned to Shreya and said, "No broken bones. I will clean the wound and dress it. You can keep changing the bandage until the wound heals. Call me if you see any pus."

Once Arjun's wound was taken care of, Sridhar gave him a shot of TT, and walked to the door saying, "Be a good boy Arjun. No more adventures."

"Sure Sridhar. Say Hello to your busy wife."

"Of course, I will. By the way, Amala is busy running around covering news stories of some copyright arrests. Are you involved in this?"

"About to jump into the fray."

"Good. Let me know if I can help in any way."

"Thanks Sridhar. I will." Then, Shreya and Arjun saw Sridhar off at the elevator, struggling to hold Neo, who was eager to go with him.

##  ___Chapter 30_

Half an hour later, Arjun was set to get started, and contrary to his habit, Jose arrived on time to pick him up.

"Good morning, Arjun. What happened to your nose?" he asked, eyeing the bulky bandage.

"Hit a low lying branch, nothing serious, I assure you."

"Oh! That is bad. Does it hurt?"

"Not really."

Opening his bag, Jose pulled out a small box, gift wrapped, and put it in Arjun's hand, saying, "Sandra got this for you." Cautiously pulling out the wrapper, Arjun opened the box to find a fragrant, roundish object, set in an ornate ring.

"Is this what I think it is?" Arjun asked, holding the object to his nose.

"Yes, my wife got you a hand-carved, limited edition coconut key chain from the one and only Kutti Brothers in Thrissur. It has been embedded with a special, ayurvedic incense, to promote relaxation," Jose said, taking a deep breath. "Encourage relaxation? Please thank Sandra on my behalf," Arjun said, amused, taking in the aroma.

To Arjun's surprise, Jose did not proceed with the standard news updates from his home state, Kerala, as he drove through the light, Sunday traffic. Instead, he quietly briefed Arjun about his inability to get their office boy's brother out of jail at Panjagutta police station. "Inspector Charan is very rude, does not know the law, won't listen," he complained for the third time, as he drove into the police station and parked. Stepping out of the car, Arjun said, "Jose, can you take me to the Inspector's office?"

When they arrived, the surly inspector was on his way out. "Good morning, sir. This is Advocate Arjun," Jose said, by way of introduction. Arjun extended his hand, but the inspector did not bother to take it.

"Why are you here again?" he asked, as he instructed his driver to bring his vehicle. "Sir, my client, Ranga Reddy, has been arrested on allegation of piracy, and is in your custody here. I would like to enlarge him on bail," Arjun said respectfully.

"Do you lack common sense? Did I not tell you yesterday?" the inspector yelled, pointing a finger at Jose. "But, sir" Arjun interjected, "This is a bailable offence, and you are required to give bail on surety." Assuming a soft, yet stern tone, Arjun stated, "Kindly instruct your officers to do the needful."

The inspector's face contorted with anger, "How dare you talk to me like that" he shouted, taking a step forward. Arjun could feel the inspector move towards him, but he did not quiver, he stood still. "Inspector Charan, I am telling you once again copyright infringement is a bailable offence. As per the law you do not have the discretion to deny a bail plea," he stated firmly.

"Is this a threat?" Inspector Charan howled, his hand involuntarily going to his holster.

"No, it is not. I am just reminding you of your duty," Arjun retorted. Noticing the Inspector's hand hover longer than usual on his revolver, Jose squeezed Arjun's arm, signaling him to retract.

"You...," the angry inspector started, but was interrupted by a loud, blaring horn.

##  ___Chapter 31_

"Good Morning, sir," Charan saluted as a young, athletic officer got out of the noisy car, and walked into the veranda. "What the hell is your Jeep doing there?" the tall man with sharp features asked, smiling. "Sorry Sir, if not for these people, I would have left by now," the inspector replied apologetically. "What are these gentlemen doing here?" the officer enquired, looking at Arjun curiously.

"We are here to bail out one of our clients who has been arrested on allegations of piracy. May I ask who I am speaking to?" Arjun asked respectfully.

"He is Mr. Anjani Babu, Assistant Commissioner of Police," Jose told Arjun, eyeing the badge.

"Oh! We have some issues with your inspector. May I request your help?"

"Surely. What is the problem?"

Arjun recited the issue to the Assistant Commissioner, who listened to him in silence. Charan tried to intervene, but the officer silenced him with a stare.

When Arjun finished, the Assistant Commissioner invited them into his office for a discussion on the matter. Before entering his office, he gave a signal to the inspector, who nodded and disappeared. "Some coffee, gentlemen?" he asked, while they settled down on the sparsely cushioned, wooden chairs. "Yes," Arjun said, folding his cane. After requesting a constable to bring three cups of coffee, the assistant commissioner began explaining.

"The news about the arrests of pirates is not completely true," he said. "We did make a few arrests, but those were aimed at nabbing terrorists. Our team is currently interrogating the detainees, and innocent persons will be released by evening. Others, as you know, shall be presented in the court on Monday morning."

Coffee arrived, and Jose handed a cup to Arjun. Taking a sip, Arjun said, "But sir, my client Ranga Reddy is no terrorist. He was arrested on Friday on allegations of selling movie and music discs. He is, in fact employed in a renowned machine tool company, Hyderabad Machine Tools, as a welder. Unfortunately for him, he was standing in for a friend, when he was arrested. With your permission, we would like to bail him out on surety. As you know, his release may not be possible, but enlargement of his custody on bail cannot be denied by the police."

"Also, sir, his family is completely dependent on him, and are panicking," Jose added.

"Of course! We do not want an innocent person to be victimized," the assistant commissioner said, picking up his phone. Dialing an extension, he asked, "Could you check if a person by the name Ranga Reddy is in our custody?" Surprised to hear the response, he asked, "Are you sure about this? Verify it again." A short spasm of silence ensued, the officer cradled the phone, and said, "I am very sorry. We don't have any person by that name in our custody."

"But Sir, I saw him yesterday," Jose protested.

"What do you mean? Are you suggesting my officer is lying?" the assistant commissioner flared with anger. Jose attempted to reply but Arjun checked him. Carefully placing his coffee cup on the table, Arjun stood up and said, "Thanks Mr. Babu. You have been of great help. We will take your leave now."

"No problem. Please do not hesitate to call me, if you need anything," the officer said, smiling.

Once Arjun and Jose were gone, the assistant commissioner called the inspector and ordered him to move the pirates to another station as per schedule. "For your sake, do not screw this up once again," he warned, as the inspector saluted and left. Alone in his chamber, the assistant commissioner sat back, and thought about the next installment, which was due the following morning. He could not help but beam as the words of the short, bald man reverberated in his head, "You will be richer than ever before when this is all over." 

##  ___Chapter 32_

"Arjun, why did you want to leave all of a sudden," Jose asked, confused.

"I will tell you soon. Just get into the car and drive out of here." As instructed, Jose drove out of the police station quietly.

"Now, take a left into one of the lanes and pull over."

Perplexed, Jose tentatively took the turn and halted. "Now what?"

"Leave me here and follow my instructions carefully. Walk to the main road with your pencil camera, and look for police vehicles coming out of the station with detainees. If you spot one, take as many pictures as you can. Make sure that you get faces and not tyres."

"But why..." Arjun did not let him finish,

"Go now! We don't have lot of time," he urged. "Stay out of sight of the police," Arjun said as an afterthought. But by then, Jose was out of ear shot.

Jose knew the drill of collecting evidence with his micro camera very well. He had done this several times. Walking casually, he first scanned the surroundings for prying eyes. Finding no intrusive presence, he swiftly made his way to the bus stop, and stood amidst the waiting travelers, glancing often, at the police station. Five minutes later, a blue police van inched out, piloted by Inspector Charan's jeep.

Turning the video recording mode of his pencil camera on, Jose walked to the edge of the sidewalk, hid himself behind a bystander, and focused on the van. The van moved slowly, and permitted Jose to get a good view of the vehicle from the front. When it reached the bus stop, the van halted owing to heavy traffic, and Jose's jaw dropped.

Jose could not believe what he was seeing. Blinking several times, he peered carefully to be absolutely certain. Sitting right opposite him was the office boy's brother Ranga Reddy, staring blankly out of the window. Jose quickly pulled his cell phone out and started clicking. The sight was too important for him to rely only on the pencil camera.

Stretching at an acute angle, Jose was taking his fourth photograph, when someone snatched his cell phone. Furious, Jose turned around to see a bulky constable facing him. "This is not allowed," the constable grunted, waving his index finger. Then, despite Jose's protests, he deleted all pictures and returned the phone with a stern warning. By the end of it, the van and Jeep were gone, leaving Jose frustrated.

Back with Arjun, "The half-brained constable deleted all my hard work," Jose grumbled, getting into the car.

"So, you saw something?"

"Yes. It was amusing, and guess what"

Arjun didn't let him finish." I know," he smiled.

"But how," Jose asked, more curious than ever before.

"We will come to that later. Did you get anything at all?"

"I think I did. We will have to get to a computer to check."

"Ok. Let us go to the office. Our next step will depend on whatever you managed to gather."

##  ___Chapter 33_

In Mumbai, Shivaji and Helen toiled on stacks of interrogation reports, hoping to learn about the modus operandi of pirates. Being the first of its kind, the operation against pirates gave Mumbai police a rare opportunity to understand the piracy business at both macro and micro levels. By comparing the data from different police stations across the state, they attempted to make a chart of the pirates' organizational structure.

"Sir," Helen said, putting her pen down, "The chain ends with the street vendor. He reports to the locality distributor, who in turn reports to the area distributor. The area distributors are connected to city/town in charge who stocks and supplies the discs to them. We have at least one person in our custody from each of these levels. Beyond that, we have no clue. Based on the existing hierarchy, I surmise there will be state and region heads, who will report to a boss."

"That is a reasonable guess," Shivaji said, rubbing his forehead. Despite the success of their raids, Shivaji was upset that they managed to catch only the expendables. "We must get to the top of the chain, and understand their game. Else, our efforts will go down the drain," he stated, studying Helen's data presentation.

"I agree, sir. Our team is working on different dimensions on this very aspect. I am hoping that something will surface sooner than later."

Shivaji shrugged and stood up to walk to the large window facing the Chatrapati Shivaji Terminus. He gazed at the footpath adjoining the station, the subject of his first raid. "I really hope it does. The extent of organization in this business concerns me."

"Sir, I am very positive about our efforts. Many enforcement agencies are on the job, and our government, for the first time, looks like it's taking the fight against piracy seriously."

"I am not sure of that, Helen. Any news from the CBI?" Shivaji asked, still staring at the footpath.

"Nothing ground-breaking, sir. They are as usual tightlipped about the entire process," Helen replied.

"Not surprising. Anything else?"

Helen looked at her phone and said, "Yes, sir. I just got an update from Inspector Atre. He has been compiling data for your meeting with the commissioner."

"Tell me," Shivaji said, getting back to his seat. Very bullish about the whole affair, the commissioner asked Shivaji for daily updates, and had been keeping him and his team on their toes.

"Sir, so far, we have made around 250 arrests, out of which, 180 are in Mumbai."

"How many of them have been arrested under that never ending, ridiculous Act?" He was referring to the Maharashtra Prevention of Dangerous Activities of Slumlords, Bootleggers, Drug-offenders and Dangerous Persons and Video Pirates Act, 1981, the GOONDA's Act. The primary objective of the Goonda's Act is to detain people, who have the potential to disturb public order through dangerous activities. Owing to lobbying by Bollywood, pirates were brought under the ambit of the law in 2009. It was reasoned that piracy is dangerous, because it has the potential to disturb public order and create crisis in the film industry, and therefore, merited its prevention through detention of pirates.

Under the Act, a person, who has been once charged with piracy can be arrested and kept in jail upto a period of one year to prevent him from taking to it again. The person will not be presented in court, and cannot challenge the decision. The only remedy available to a detainee is a representation before the advisory committee, which takes several weeks to provide its non-binding inputs to the government. Simply put, once arrested under the Goonda's Act, the person is at the mercy of the government. Shan, through his influence, and ACP's financial resources, managed to persuade the government for action against pirates under the said law. Pursuant to that, the government issued several orders to arrest and detain many pirates.

Quickly scrolling through the report on her cell phone, "We have detained 31 dangerous persons so far. Poor fellows," Helen said, feeling bad for them.

"Pirates are deadly. Is your team watching them carefully?" Shivaji taunted. They were in agreement that including pirates under the Dangerous Activities Act was an overkill, totally unnecessary, and unfair to the detainees. Yet, they had no choice, but to implement the law.

Smiling at his sarcasm, Helen said, "Sir, they are kept at separate stations for now. We may move them to a single location later."

"Helen, try interviewing these people individually. As they are repeat offenders, we may get some useful information on the pirate structure. Irrespective of how far this exercise goes, let us try and understand the piracy business as much as we can. Let's meet tomorrow to review any further data you are able to collate."

"Sure, sir. Will do that."

Helen got back to her office and scanned the data on her whiteboard. It held information about activities against pirates on one side, and details of copyright linked murders on the other side. "Are the murders of Viren, and the other copyright lawyers linked to piracy?" she wondered. Despite lack of any direct evidence to connect the two, the thought never left her mind. Except for Lamba's inputs, she had neither any concrete evidence, nor the permission to pursue any form of enquiry. But now, with the government's orders to crack down on piracy in a major way, Helen felt that she had a great opportunity to find answers. "How deep does the rabbit hole go," Helen wondered.

##  ___Chapter 34_

Arjun paced back and forth while he waited for Jose to download the video to the laptop. Anxious and sitting upright, Jose had the enthusiasm of a high-school kid who awaited his exam results, staring restlessly at the screen, while the old laptop took its time to transfer data from the camera. Fifteen minutes later, when the computer finished its job, Jose eagerly opened the folder to verify the results. What he saw on the screen brought a smile to his face, and he narrated the sequence to Arjun.

The police van was clearly visible on the screen as it came out of the station. The video was so clear that Jose could read the number, and figure out the constables seated in the front. However, when it got to the bus stop, where Jose stood, the angle of the video abruptly changed. What initially seemed to be a perfect side view to show the people in the vehicle transformed into a frog's eye view of roof of the van in the backdrop of a bunch of crows sitting on sagging electric cables.

On seeing the final scene, Jose stopped narrating. "What happened, Jose," Arjun asked anxiously. "Damn it! I have failed you, Arjun. I could not shoot the crucial part, showing Ranga Reddy in the van," Jose said, his voice wavering.

"Don't worry Jose. It is alright," Arjun tried to reassure him, placing his hand on Jose's shoulder. Jose did not respond, he sat still, staring blankly at the wall in front of him.

"Can you take me through the video once again, step by step," Arjun asked, and sat down. Jose stared at Arjun for a few seconds in dazed stupor, and began to narrate what was playing out on the screen.

By the time Jose finished, Arjun had a plausible plan. It was not a foolproof one, but he was reasonably confident that it would work.

"Jose," he said, "Looks like you have a chance to redeem this mess. Are you game?"

"Of course! I am. What do you want me to do?"

"Good. Could you edit this video and cleave it in parts?"

"Certainly. How do you want it cut?" Jose asked, pulling up his laptop.

While Jose was at it, Arjun placed a couple of calls to get his plan rolling.

##  ___Chapter 35_

Although it was rush hour, Helen managed to reach the DN Nagar Police Station snaking through the nightmarish traffic of Andheri West. As she hung the dripping rain coat, the station officer, who anticipated her arrival, walked up, saluted, and led her into the interrogation room. Owing to the unusually heavy downpour pelting the city since morning, there was no electricity, and the station was dimly lit by the sparsely distributed, fading emergency lights. At the back of the station, in a dark, small interrogation room, a worn-out wooden table flanked by two rusted chairs awaited Helen's arrival.

As soon as she settled down on one of the creaking chairs, a constable brought Helen a tumbler of tea. Wiping her face with a hand towel Helen savored the hot ginger tea, and waited for the inspector. She was taking her last sip when the inspector arrived with a short, unkempt, bearded man, whose eyes lit up when he saw Helen. He gaped at her glistening face, and grinned to showcase his gutkha stained teeth.

"What a piece, boss" he muttered as the inspector pushed him down, and cuffed him to the chair. The man was about to say more, when the inspector slapped him hard, instantly making a red imprint on his cheek.

"Talk only when madam asks you," the inspector warned, pressing the struggling man down. Without uttering a word, Helen opened the file placed before her, and studied it.

Helen learned from the file that the man was a hardened criminal. Rape, assault, and several cases of piracy were pending against him. She closed the file and said, "Chola, you are a smart man." The grin that resurfaced on Rudra Chola's face was creepy.

"Madam, my great grandfathers were kings. My family home is 10 times the size of this station," he started bragging, with his stare transfixed on Helen's chest.

How disgusting can a man be, Helen thought, noticing his gaze. "So then tell me, how did a king like you get into a business as demeaning as piracy?" she asked.

"Wahi ladki ka mamla, madam. All temptations in the world are because of women, you don't need me to tell you that. Do you?"

Beginning to get annoyed a little, Helen absently asked, "Which woman, Chola?"

"Kavya! Gosh, she was hot!" Gazing at Helen's blank face. "Madam, Kavya Saran, that Bollywood sex bomb. The one going around with Raj Khanna."

"Oh ok! ... How do you happen to know her," Helen asked, not believing a word the man was saying. "Arre Madam, you won't believe this. I was her personal assistant. I saw a lot of her," Chola said dreamily. Now, the creepy grin was back on his face. Disgusted, Helen realized her interview was going nowhere, and asked the inspector to take him away.

"Solid piece, boss," Helen heard him say again, as the officer roughly pushed him out of the room.

Frustrated, Helen went out of the room, and requested the constable in waiting for another glass of tea. Outside, while it poured cats and dogs, Helen involuntarily stretched her hand to feel the rain. It reminded Helen of the wonderful days she spent with her grandfather at his farmhouse in the midst of green fields. After driving the cattle and chicken into the safety of the farm house, Helen and her grandfather always ran out into the rain, and danced until they were totally drenched. The stories they concocted after that, to escape her grandmother's wrath, brought a wide smile to her face and she quickly forgot the creepy man.

"Tea, madam," the constable's tentative voice interrupted Helen's brooding. Chatting with the elderly constable, she enjoyed the refreshing tea. When she got back to the interrogation room, she was taken by surprise. Sitting before her, cuffed to the chair, was Ilahi. With blood shot eyes, cuts on the face, and swollen upper lip, he wasn't exactly pleasant to look at.

##  _Chapter 36_

Looking intently at his laptop, Assistant Commissioner Babu refreshed the screen for the tenth time. "Damn that blind lawyer," he cursed, checking the inbox of his alias id. Following the call with Arjun, he has been anxiously awaiting his email. In a short, rather one-sided conversation, Arjun informed him about a video showing the pirates, whose detention the assistant commissioner kept denying. The lawyer, in absolutely lucid terms, warned him of serious consequences, if all detainees were not immediately released.

To make the matters worse, the assistant commissioner received another call from the celebrated journalist Amala Paul as soon as he finished Arjun's call. Obviously tipped off about what could be a breaking story, she was eager for details and a statement from him. Though he managed to elude her, he remained worried. What seemed to him to be an ingenious, flawless plan was now breaking down, and ACP Babu's temper was running very short.

A few days ago, a short man, who called himself Lamba, asked the assistant commissioner to arrest pirated disc vendors, and keep at least 30 of them in jail for three days. In return, he promised Rs 50 lakh as compensation. It was one of the easiest jobs ACP Babu was ever offered for such a return, and he accepted the offer without a second thought.

The initial arrest consisted of more than 60 pirates. The assistant commissioner let some of them go on bail, and kept about 40, hand-picked by him, in detention. Based on his analysis, their economic status did not permit the detainees to hire a lawyer, and he was confident that there would be no trouble until, of course, Arjun came along. Though he was initially worried about the lawyer's intervention, he was convinced after his interaction with him that everything was under control. Besides, he needed to hang on to the detainees for just another day to get his second and final installment of Rs 30 lakh, which he felt was a matter of formality.

At that moment though, it was painfully clear to the assistant commissioner that he had underestimated the lawyer, and that things were getting out of control. When the email finally arrived, ACP Babu, to his surprise, did not find any attachment. On quickly perusing the email, he realized to his horror, that the video was uploaded to You Tube marked for public viewing. He cursed Arjun once again, and clicked on the link. The video opened in a new window and showed the film of a police van coming out of Panjagutta police station. "You sightless bastard," ACP Babu yelled, staring with disbelief at the screen, which clearly showed the constables in the van following his jeep.

The video stopped at that point, and he read through the rest of the email. It stated that the other parts of the video would be uploaded on You Tube within one hour, if appropriate action was not taken. ACP Babu did not have to think much, he knew what must be done. He picked his phone and placed a call to Inspector Charan, and asked him to let all pirates go. As he typed his response to the email, the assistant commissioner hoped that his greed would not ruin his career.

No sooner than he had hit the send button, the assistant commissioner's personal cell phone buzzed. The message on the screen said that a sum of Rs 1 lakh had been transferred to his wife's bank account. Before his mind could process the information, the cell phone started ringing, and ACP Babu involuntarily answered it.

"Mr. Babu," the caller said, "I hope you received the money we sent for your wife's consulting services."

"Yes ..." he said warily, trying to fathom what services the caller was referring to.

"She will receive an additional Rs 19 lakh, if you release all pirates in your custody. As you are aware, the detention is anyway illegal." ACP Babu could not believe his ears. "Did you say, all I have to do is, let the pirates go," he asked for confirmation.

"Yes," the caller said, in a clipped tone.

"Consider it done," the assistant commissioner assured, unable to believe the reversal of fate.

##  ___Chapter 37_

##

Ilahi wiped the tears from his eyes and gazed expectantly at Helen. He was in a terrible shape, and Helen could not help feeling bad for him. "So, Ilahi," she said, studying his file, "it seems you are not as innocent as I thought you were." Utterly failing in holding himself together, "Madam, I swear I am innocent. I only worked to feed my little sisters, and ailing father. Please help me," he managed to say, amidst intermittent sobs. "Old story. I expected something better from a seasoned criminal like you," Helen taunted, displaying total disregard for his emotions.

"Believe me, madam, I am telling the truth. You may visit my home to verify this," Ilahi persisted. From Ilahi's demeanor, Helen entertained no doubts that he was being truthful, but she couldn't let him walk away either. As if reading her mind, Ilahi said, "Madam, if you allow me to go, I can help you with your investigation."

"Oh! Now we're talking! And what do you propose?" Helen asked, feigning indifference.

"Madam, I can help you get information about the piracy mafia," Ilahi offered.

"Go on," Helen urged.

"My father was in the thick of this business, before he took to retirement because of ill health. He put me in this business, and knows some crucial insider information."

"We have many people like your father in our custody now," Helen said, brushing his offer away. "But madam, my father is not just anybody. He was high in rank, head of Mumbai operations," Ilahi said, and Helen noticed a trace of pride.

That statement piqued Helen's interest, but she still showed no interest. With a straight face, she asked, "How will that help our cause?"

"My father put me in this because the business is backed by very powerful people. He always tells me that they will take care of my safety. If it interests you, I can try to get some intelligence on who they are and how the system works." Holding the rush in her head, Helen asked a series of questions, "Wouldn't that threaten you and your family? Why should I trust you? What if you vanish after I let you go?"

Ilahi did not have to think about his answers, he instantly said, "I know that vouching for myself is of no avail. I will let my information and work do the talking." Without waiting for a response from Helen, he continued to give her an insight into the pirate hierarchy. Based on his account, the organization structure of pirates, as expected by Helen, was vertical with a boss, like a CEO in a company, who called all the shots. Below the boss were country, region, state, and city heads. Their roles were largely managerial, which primarily included managing the work force on the ground, who reported to them, and collecting revenues.

"The money flows from the street vendor to the top, with minimal deductions at each level, and complete secrecy between levels. No one knows anything more than their immediate supervisor," Ilahi stated. "It is a nasty business," he continued, "Punishment for non-compliance at any level is severe; death more often than not. Despite that, I am willing to take the risk, madam, because, without me, my family will suffer, and I am not particularly happy with what I am doing."

By now, Helen was convinced about Ilahi's resourcefulness, and that was good enough for her to let him go. Helen felt that she had nothing to lose, but a lot to gain. One pirate at large, she thought, would not make much difference to their drive against piracy, but if Ilahi actually delivered, it would prove to be invaluable.

"Madam," Ilahi broke into her thoughts, "Please trust me. I will do my best, and have nowhere to run." Ilahi sounded very sincere, and did not make any commitments, which Helen weighed in his favor. Desperate criminals always gave false promises, and Ilahi, in Helen's assessment, was definitely not one of them. Searching her mind, one last time, for possible drawbacks, and finding none, Helen made her decision.

"You better get me something of value," she finally said, and that brought a smile to Ilahi's battered face. "Hear me out carefully," Helen expounded her plan of action. He intently listened to every word she said, and quietly nodded his assent. Getting what Helen wanted, names of people at the top level, Ilahi knew would not be easy, but he needed to get out of jail, and agreed to do everything he could to acquire the information.

"You must update me on a daily basis," Helen ordered Ilahi, before he was ushered away by the inspector. When the inspector returned, Helen gave him necessary instructions, took her rain coat, and stepped out. In the rain, she instinctively removed her hood, and looked up, letting the water caress her smiling face.

##  ___Chapter 38_

Arjun attempted to quietly slip out of the house at 6 a.m., but could not succeed. Neo caught his leg, and sat like a log, expressing his displeasure at Arjun's betrayal. Grinning, Arjun picked up the leash from the shoe rack, and walked out with Neo, silently shutting the door. Fast asleep in her cozy bed, Shreya was blissfully unaware of their departure.

Neo's nature call out of the way, Arjun leisurely made his way towards the park. The streets were unusually deserted, and he could hear the leaves crackle under his Nike soles. Neo seemed happy to be out in the world and obediently walked by his side, scanning his surroundings for things of interest. Ten minutes later, Arjun entered the Kasu Brahmananda Reddy National Park, commonly referred to as a Jungle in Concrete Jungle. Located in Jubilee Hills, in close proximity to both his house and office, the park was Arjun's walking haven.

Spread over 390 acres, the park offered an excellent environment for people seeking refuge from the polluted city environment. Originally owned by the Nizam of Hyderabad, the park was taken over by the state government in 1998, and given national park status. In addition to a variety of species of plants, the park hosted numerous birds, especially peacocks, reptiles and butterflies. Arjun enjoyed the fresh air and refreshing sounds of nature as he walked through the winding pathway that ran the park's circumference. Despite the irresistible urge to investigate different odors and noises, Neo slowly walked by his side, quizzically gazing at the colorful butterflies flying from flower to flower.

After finishing his first round, Arjun contemplated on taking a break, when he heard someone calling his name. "Excuse me, Mr. Arjun. Heartiest Congratulations," the man shouted, keeping his distance from the growling Neo. "For what," Arjun asked, patting Neo, and trying to calm him down. "For getting the pirates released," the man replied, lowering his tone. Slightly taken aback, Arjun wondered how this man knew about his role in the affair. Neither did the news reports mention his name, nor was any third party other than a few policemen aware of his involvement.

"Those men you bailed out have very high regard for you. And you don't have to be in the news to be a celebrity," the man said, reading Arjun's mind. "Thanks. How may I help you," Arjun asked, not very happy about what he heard.

"I work for Copyleft Foundation, an organization, as you might be aware, formed to fight the evils of the copyright system. We need your help to fight a few cases for us." Arjun was well aware of the Copyleft movement, and was personally a strong proponent of their philosophy.

"Oh. How about meeting at my office? My pal here does not like any intrusion into our privacy," Arjun said, pointing at Neo, who had started barking violently out of restlessness.

"We would have loved to do that, sir. But Mr. Bob Raja, the president of our Foundation, on whose personal behalf I am here to meet you, is in Hyderabad for just four hours, post which he will fly to Mumbai. So, for this one time, could you kindly come over to our office? It would be our pleasure to host the meeting. Of course, only if it is convenient to you," the man requested. Struggling to hold on to Neo, who was now straining to pounce on the man.

"OK. I think it is time for us to get going. Please message me your address."

"Don't worry about that. Our car will pick you from your house at 10 a.m. Only if it is convenient to you." the man said talking over Neo's barks, moving farther away.

"Ok," Arjun replied, unwary of the warnings his loyal dog was sending his way.

##  ___Chapter 39_

"Welcome to the Copyleft Foundation. We are grateful that you agreed to meet us at such short notice," Bob Raja said, shaking hands with Arjun and Jose, his deep voice echoing off the walls of the large, stone-walled meeting room.

Beaming, Arjun said, "It is our pleasure Mr. Bob. I regard the Copyleft Movement very highly, and am honored to meet a selfless and dedicated person like you."

"In fact, Arjun talks about many of your wonderful initiatives, in his lectures at National Law Academy," Jose added, with great deference. The Copyleft Foundation India had grown leaps and bounds since Bob took over from Chandra Sagar, and both Arjun and Jose considered it a privilege to meet him in person, at the Foundation's office, once the Nizam's library, today converted into commercial office space.

Pouring coffee and handing each of them a cup, Bob said, "Thanks a lot, gentlemen. I really appreciate your kind words. With your permission, may I formally introduce the Foundation?"

"Of course," Arjun and Jose replied in unison. While Arjun and Jose sipped on their coffee, Bob briefed them about the Copyleft Foundation, and its activities in India.

"Since Richard Stallman laid the foundation for the Copyleft Movement to combat the autocratic practices of copyright owners, which impeded the progress of creativity, the movement has taken significant strides and diversified considerably. As you know, Copyleft, a clever modification of the word Copyright, initially denoted the use of copyright law to make software and other creative works available for free use, modification, and sharing. Today, it has truly transcended the original objective, and, through our efforts, has assumed a much broader connotation, to stand for action against copyright owners to safeguard social interests."

Moving through his artistic slides, Bob continued, "Copyleft Foundation was started to make creative works freely available to everyone in the society. Towards that end, we take up a host of activities including formulating legal instruments to facilitate sharing of creative works; Encouraging contribution to increase the pool of creative works like movies, music, photographs, paintings, software, books, etc, which are free from copyright, for public enjoyment; fighting the atrocities of copyright owners such as unjustified actions against people spreading creativity by selling DVDs, hosting online services, among other things, in social and legal forums; lobbying against draconian laws that favor copyright owners in an unjustified manner; ...

"Free Software, Open Source Software, Creative Commons, Open Source Biotech and Drug Research, and many more initiatives have emerged from our Copyleft philosophy. Today, the android phones we use, Linux operating system, Open Office, millions of photographs, sequence of human genome, and medicines for some orphan diseases, owe their existence to the movement."

Though Arjun knew a lot about the Foundation, he listened with rapt attention as Bob cited statistics about the impact of their activities in India. "More than half a billion creative works have been made available for free under Copyleft licenses through our Foundations' efforts in India alone," Bob proudly pronounced. "These works," he said, "are free for public use, modification and distribution, and will be free from the vice of copyright, out of the control of an individual or corporation, forever."

"What percentage of this is movies and music," Arjun enquired, while Bob paused to move to the next set of numbers.

"Most of those works are photographs, and software, but the volume of free movies and music is growing. As of date, they account for about five percent of the total free works." Skipping slides, Bob then gave them information about the Foundation's network in India. He proudly informed them that they now have offices in all states, a step that has taken their cause to all nooks and corners, even rural areas.

"Last year, Chandra Sagar, my predecessor president of Copyright Foundation, who unfortunately went missing on a ship," Bob said, his voice softening, "Had initiated a legal group called Copyleft Freedom Law Center. The primary purpose of the Center was to protect the common man from harassment by copyright owners. Through the Center, we have been representing street vendors of discs, small businesses, website owners, and many others who facilitate sharing of creativity."

Intrigued by the disclosure, Arjun commented, "That is very interesting. I have heard about this Center but found no data about it on your website."

"Yes, Arjun, you will not find much about this initiative on the internet. Sagar made a conscious decision to keep its existence secret for various reasons. But I plan to make this public sooner than later."

"Who was heading this initiative," Arjun asked, curious.

"Our first lead counsel was Viren Bhatia, before he changed sides, and started representing production houses, enemies of the Foundation. Whatever said and done, he was a great lawyer. Unfortunate that he is no more with us. Huge loss," Bob stated sorrowfully. At that moment, Bob went quiet and the silence in the room was intense for a while. Ending the moment, Jose asked, "If you don't mind, can you kindly let us know, why we are here?"

"Yes, of course, I was just getting to that," Bob said, taking a long breath, "We would like to request Arjun to participate in the Law Center's activities. It will be our honor, if you can take up a couple of cases to start with."

Overwhelmed by the request, Arjun could not muster an immediate response. Though he instinctively wished to work with them, he wanted to understand what he was getting into, and whether he would be able to handle it. So he asked, "I really appreciate your confidence in me. If I do accept, what kind of cases would I be involved in?"

Opening a file on his laptop, Bob briefed Arjun about an imminent copyright battle relating to a file-sharing website called SHARE, built by students of the International Institute of Technology Bombay (IITB).

"To start with, this is one case we would like you to handle. We share a very good relationship with IITB and have been siding its open source development initiatives for a long time. The Foundation is committed to support the students, who have given the world a path-breaking technology to share information freely. Of late, there has been news about legal action against them. We do not want to allow the copyright owners, destroyers of free culture, to stop SHARE by using the law for their personal, commercial benefit and to the detriment of society. As Indians we have always believed that sharing is caring, and we hope to safeguard the sanctity of that belief," Bob ended, in what was easily his most exhaustive and emotional response since they had started talking.

Though the case might not be lucrative, Arjun saw great value in the opportunity for him and his career. Personally, he connected with the Foundation's objectives, and felt quite excited about the prospects of representing students of IITB, a premier institute. However, he needed to think if he would be able to pull it off. On its face, it did not sound very straightforward, and so, he said, "I respect the Foundation and relate to its goals. But may I request a couple of days to make my decision?"

"Of course, Arjun, please take your time. We will pray that you decide to work with us," Bob said, holding Arjun's hand.

On his way back, sitting in the same Mercedes Benz that had picked them up, Arjun thought about Bob's offer. While seeing him off at the car, Bob had humbly requested Arjun to work on at least one case before making his decision, and though it seemed very logical for Arjun, he found it difficult to make up his mind. The confidence reposed in him by Bob, the Foundation's stature, and the high stakes in its cases, intimidated him.

##  ___Chapter 40_

Brushing the scanty hair left on the fringes of his round head, Lamba pondered on the presentation. Since his last update to the Alliance against Copyright Piracy, things had not progressed as well as he wished, and it only added to his paranoia. Putting a lot of inconsequential incidents together, he prepared a report but he knew it would not be enough for Shan, who would expect the incredible response of the first week to continue. By the time Shan called for him, Lamba made up his mind to focus on the way ahead, rather than resting on his past laurels, where his space for maneuverability was little.

"Hello, young man," Shan greeted Lamba as he entered the spacious office.

"Good afternoon, sir. You seem to be busy," Lamba said, hinting at the delay in their meeting.

"Too busy for my liking. I apologize for making you wait. Raj Khanna is quite upset with my new model, and I have been trying to calm him down," Shan said, referring to the Baadshah of Bollywood.

"I hope you succeeded, Mr. Shan."

"Unfortunately, I haven't. Nothing I offer seems to pacify the man. Anyway, what updates do you have for me?"

Opening his laptop, Lamba said, "The raids, as you know, have been a resounding success. Though many pirates have been released in Hyderabad and other places after a few days, I made sure they understood the serious consequences of taking to piracy in the future."

"Well done. What's next," Shan asked, not probing any further.

"Mr. Shan, are Mr. Singh and Mr. Zakir not going to join us," Lamba enquired, surprised at their absence.

"Probably not, Lamba. You should go ahead," Shan said, looking at his watch.

Happy that he would have to deal with only Shan, who seemed to be in a hurry, Lamba continued, "Our focus during the next couple of weeks will be on two things, online piracy and civil action. Our online activities have not yielded expected results; hence, I have come up with a new strategy. Starting tomorrow, two teams will be working on combating online copyright infringement. The first team will focus on removing infringing content on the internet through take-down notices, online strikes, website blockade, and John Doe orders. The second team, a bunch of the best of hackers in the world, will attack and compromise websites hosting pirated works. They will infect the websites, disable access, storm and ambush servers, networks and even personal computers, and perform other activities to prevent websites from functioning. If everything goes well, we hope to see at least 20 percent decline in online piracy."

"Sounds like a sound plan. Could you quickly brief me about the civil cases," Shan asked not going into details, once again to Lamba's surprise, and clearly in a hurry to finish the meeting.

"Our battery of lawyers are ready to go," Lamba proceeded, "They will be filing copyright infringement cases against companies, retail stores, and high-profile individuals by the coming Tuesday. In line with our strategy, we have handpicked parties, who will either not be able to defend themselves, or would give us extensive visibility. I have personally reviewed the backgrounds of all parties we will be suing, and see no scope for failure."

"Excellent. What about SHARE, the content sharing platform of IITB?"

"After several discussions, we have decided to sue them as well. Our best lawyer in Mumbai, Vinod Vachaspati, is handling the case. I am confident about the success in that case as well. We are expecting great media attention on it, and we must use it to our benefit."

"Wonderful. Very well. Anything else?" Shan wanted to close the meeting.

"Yes, Mr. Shan. I received an intimidating call last evening. The caller somehow knew our entire plan," Lamba said, fear creeping into his voice.

"Don't let that scare you. I will sort that out, and no harm will come to you," Shan assured him.

"I am not scared," Lamba lied. "I am concerned. What worries me is not who the caller is, but how they know the information. Someone in our team is talking."

"Hmm," Shan thought for a while before responding, "I think I can trace this. I will investigate it and plug it soon. Will keep you posted. You concentrate on what we have planned." That was the end of the meeting, and Lamba knew better than to discuss the point further. In a few minutes, he was out of Shan's office, and on the phone with Helen.

##  __ Part III

## The Case

## Chapter 41

##

Startled, Helen woke up, reached for her noisy cell phone, and glanced at the screen. Though calls at 1 a.m. were not unusual, anonymous calls were, and she answered reluctantly. Circumspection vanished, and senses went to high alert when she heard Ilahi's voice. "Madam, really sorry to disturb you at this hour," he said, in a low voice.

"No problem. Tell me why you called," she asked, getting out of her bed.

"A high-profile meeting of pirates is in progress at Alpine. You can catch ..."

Helen did not let him finish. "How many? Are they armed? Any civilians around?" She fired a series of questions.

"Around 10. Armed, yes, to the teeth. No civilians," Ilahi answered to the point.

That was all Helen needed to get going. "Get out of there," she ordered, running to her closet. Two minutes later, she was out of her quarters, driving towards Colaba, speed-dialing Shivaji. Three attempts later, Shivaji answered,

"Where are you headed at this hour? Have you forgotten that IP Cell of ATS is closed at night?"

"Sir, "I am on my way to Colaba. Will need back up," she responded curtly, in no mood for small talk. "For what"? Is it something to do with pirates?"

"Yes." Helen filled him in as fast as she could, all the while wondering how Shivaji knew.

"Pull over immediately, and give me your co-ordinates. We will go together. Call Atre and ask him to join us with his team," he ordered.

"Sir,.." Helen protested, but before she could voice anything, the phone went dead. Left with no option, Helen pulled over, awoke Atre and asked him to come over with as much force as he could muster. Then, she waited, as an unusual concoction of frustration, desperation and anger coursed through her nerves.

A frustrating half an hour later, Atre finally arrived with a herd of four sleepy constables. From their dazed expressions and loosely-held, outdated guns, Helen concluded they were not ready for even a street fight, forget gun fire. Returning their salutes, she asked, "Will anyone else be joining us?"

"No, madam," Atre replied apologetically, hand on his shining bald head, which reflected light off the vapor street lamp.

The presence of Atre calmed her nerves, but not for long. As her watch ticked away, and Shivaji was nowhere to be seen, Helen's frustration was back, and her pulse rate soared with every passing minute. She paced back and forth, unmindful of the policemen gazing quizzically at her, and couldn't help but wonder, if this was an intentional ploy to delay her.

##  ___Chapter 42_

Francis snarled like a wolf as he walked into Alpine, his armed squad at his heels. Music fell silent, and the men in waiting stood up, gazing at him with terror-filled eyes. From the mood of their boss, Pido and Thambi had no doubt that someone was in trouble, but little did they know that it was them. Francis ignored their extended hands and signaled them to sit, while his men took away their guns and formed a daunting circle around them.

Francis glared at the two men menacingly, slowly pulled out his semi-automatic pistol and deftly undid the safety catch.

"What is wrong Francis," Thambi asked, trembling.

Francis paid no heed and said, "Who wants to go first?"

Perplexed, Thambi and Pido looked at each other before Thambi spoke again. "Sorry, boss. I had to get my people out of jail and could not sit and watch. Please pardon me," he implored shuddering with fear.

For what seemed like an eternity to Thambi, Francis mulled over his plea. Recent developments already weighed heavily on him, and the last thing Francis wanted at that moment was dissent from a senior member. He clearly instructed them to await orders, but Thambi decided to act on his own accord, leading to a bit of disarray in his ranks.

Not democratic, but an autocratic approach with absolute authority, and ruthless extermination of dissent was the key to success in his line of business, and Francis felt compelled to demonstrate that rule. Besides, the top man had called him for a meeting, and Francis needed a scapegoat to justify his temporary loss of control.

Making up his mind, Francis said, "Nothing personal, Thambi." He then placed the gun to the terrified man's head and pulled the trigger. Thambi's head exploded, body went limp and fell backwards, leaving a stunned Pido, in a mess of blood and flesh. Then, Francis turned his gun towards Pido, and ominously announced, "You defy, you die."

As tremors rocked his terrified body, Pido begged, "I will never cross the line. Spare me, please. Please ..." The offensive against pirates had forced them to re-organize the pirate chain, and Francis pondered if he needed Pido.

##  ___Chapter 43_

It was 2 a.m. when Shivaji finally arrived, and the convoy of three police vehicles made its way to Alpine pub.

"Why is Shivaji doing this?" Helen could not help thinking, as she followed his slow-moving car. By now, she had lost all hope of making it to the pirate meeting and was going through the motions only as a matter of formality. Shivaji was her role model, and Helen just could not make sense of his inconsistent behavior in the recent past.

The sudden screeching of tyres broke into the flurry of thoughts in her head, which were attempting to concoct legitimacy to Shivaji's actions, and Helen impulsively braked, managing to stop her car from ramming the car in front by a whisker. However, partly due to the machine, and partly owing to his sleepy head, the driver in the Jeep following her was not so successful. In a last minute attempt to swerve, he avoided a head on collision, but managed to engrave a long, artistic furrow on the side of Helen's car.

Despite the clamor, Helen's attention was not on her car, she was glued to the fleet of black sedans that had turned onto the road and sped away. Though she strained hard, she was unable to see their license numbers from her line of sight. As soon as the cars disappeared, Shivaji's car started to move, and Helen followed suit, gesturing at the policemen inspecting her car to get moving. After two rights, and a left, they reached Alpine, and spotted an old Mahindra Jeep with its back door open.

Quickly directing the constables to take positions outside, Shivaji asked Helen and Atre to follow him. Holding their guns in offensive positions, they burst into the pub, kicking the door open. They saw three living and one dead man inside. On seeing them, the men dropped the body they were carrying, and tried to reach for their guns that were on the table. "Do not move; raise your hands slowly," Shivaji yelled, firing two warning shots, which stopped the men in their tracks.

"Atre, get their guns. Helen, go and fetch the hand cuffs," Shivaji ordered, moving towards the men. "Are there any more," he asked the youngest man among the three. The man shook his head, indicating that there were none. Five minutes later, the three men were handcuffed, and taken to a police station by Atre, while Shivaji and Helen sat at a table waiting for their colleagues in the crime branch to get there, and take charge of the scene.

Following a short silence, Helen mustered the courage to say, "Sir, we might have saved this man had we arrived on time."

Picking up on the subtle accusation in her voice, Shivaji said, "Sorry about the delay. I was at a friends' house in Thane. I did try to arrive as soon as I could."

"But Sir, I could have handled it myself."

"Don't be stupid, Helen. Did you see their guns? They were state of the art. Those men would have torn you to pieces, and our clowns would have offered no resistance."

For Helen, that statement simply implied that she was not capable of handling a serious situation, and it offended her. Shivaji read her mind and said, "This is not about your capabilities, it is about the adversary you are up against. The risk you wanted to take was not worth it." Then, locking eyes with her, he sincerely said, "Having special skills is not enough. You must know how and when to use them. Remember Helen, it is not the strongest or the intelligent that will succeed, it is the one with most common sense and good judgment." The honesty in Shivaji's eyes was irrefutable, and Helen could not manage to say anything. Lowering her eyes, she sat still, staring blankly at the table, while her mind attempted to comprehend the true import of his words.

When Inspector Simran finally arrived with her team, Shivaji requested her to keep Helen posted on the investigation and walked out. Getting into his car, "See you at the shooting range tomorrow morning," he said to Helen, who was still lost in thought.

"Sure, sir." Helen nodded absently as she watched Shivaji's car disappear. Then Helen took a long walk by the sea , enjoying the cool breeze on her face, gazing at the clear, starry sky, which contrasted with her foggy mind.

##  ___Chapter 44_

Standing at the rail on the top deck of the super luxury yacht, Francis enjoyed the calm, beautiful morning.

"Good morning," the shrill voice of his boss tore into the tranquility, like a lance into smooth flesh. "Good morning, Boss." Smiling, Francis turned around, and faced the pleasant-looking old man with deep brown eyes, radiating joy.

Once they were seated at the breakfast table, a crew member, dressed in white, placed a large tray filled with bread, omelets, poha, and a kettle filled with hot coffee in front of them. "Thank you, Gilbert. Could you please shut the door behind you," the boss requested courteously. Then, he handed a plate to Francis, and poured two cups of coffee. "No sugar for you, Right."

"Yes, Boss. Thank you very much."

"My pleasure, Francis. I am very happy to see you again."

He took a long noisy sip, and asked, "I don't hear any good news these days. Are we being tossed?" "Sir, things will change soon. I just eliminated Thambi, one of the moles in our group."

"Good. But the problem is more external, than internal. I had a chat with our big boss, and the orders are to terminate all the risks, internal and external. Let us eliminate every one responsible for Project Pi." Shocked and uncertain of what he just heard, Francis stopped eating, and stared at his boss.

"You heard me alright. It is time to start killing." Plotting against, and murdering, high-profile individuals was a game Francis thoroughly enjoyed playing, and he always looked forward to it. Since his childhood days, he had held a burning desire for violence and derived great pleasure from it. Notwithstanding his personality, Francis, for reasons he could not put forth, felt a little uncomfortable with the elimination strategy.

Gazing intently into his eyes, "Don't worry about it," his boss went on, "We have considered all the angles, and carefully too. We can survive only if we put our enemies out of action. I will send you the hit list by end of day. Also, once the job is done, your pay will receive a substantial hike." That brought a broad smile to Francis's face.

"When do we start, boss," he enthusiastically asked, placing his half-empty plate on the table.

His boss stood up and said, "The sooner the better." Then, he stepped towards Francis, squeezed his shoulder and left.

The meeting was over and it was now, obviously, time for some pleasure. Taking his time to finish the coffee, Francis went down the stairs, entered the suite on the second floor, and shut the door behind him. Two hours later, relaxed and rejuvenated, he boarded the speed boat, and made his way to the shore, excited about the upcoming action.

##  ___Chapter 45_

Inaugurated in 1862, the Bombay High Court is one of the most monumental and distinguished High Courts in India. Like many other heritage buildings in the city, it was built in Gothic style architecture. A medieval building houses the Court, statues of Justice and Mercy, appropriately adorning its pinnacle. Not only did the first chief justice, attorney general, and solicitor general hail from Bombay High Court, the court also holds the distinction of sending several judges to the Supreme Court, many of them elevated to the position of Chief Justice of India.

Opposite the famed court, adjoining the Oval Maidan, stands a recently-inaugurated plush hotel, The Palace. In a suite on the fourth floor of the hotel, Arjun and Jose sat in a huddle with the young creators of SHARE, Charles and Adara.

"So," Arjun said, "You are not sure about the monetization mechanisms of SHARE, and do not have access to those modules."

"Yes sir, we know little," Charles said, adjusting his thick spectacles. "Except for the fact that advertisements and priority listings are a source of revenue, we do not know much. That is handled by Bob completely. Our primary role is to improve the platform by adding new modules," Adara added.

"How much are you paid for this work," Jose asked, munching on the complimentary cashew nuts. "Sir, when we initially transferred the platform to Copyleft Foundation, we were paid a compensation of Rs 2 lakh each, and a state-of-the-art IT laboratory was set up at the Institute. Now, our team is paid an internship fee of Rs 10,000 per month," Adara said, evidently happy with their pay package.

"How big is your team?"

"Six of us as of today, and growing fast," Charles replied, while typing a message on his cell phone.

"OK. Thanks guys, you have been very informative. Now, it is time for us to go," Arjun said, getting up from the comfortable sofa.

"Sir, are we allowed to watch the proceedings," Adara asked eagerly.

"Of course! Both of you must be there. It is your case. Besides, I may call for your technical support, if I need it," Arjun responded, smiling. Then, turning to Jose, he said, "Send a message to Bob, and keep calling until you get hold of him. We need complete information about the financial details of SHARE. We don't want any surprises."

"Sure, Arjun. On it," Jose said, pocketing a pack of peanuts, and pulling out his cell phone.

Arjun and Jose then wore their white bands, picked up their black, silky gowns, and made their way to the court, Charles and Adara tailing them. Though they arrived from Hyderabad the previous day by a late-night flight, Arjun showed no sign of fatigue. If anything, he was completely keyed up to take on the best entertainment advocate in Mumbai.

From the time he agreed to work with the Copyleft Foundation, a week ago, Arjun was in touch with the young students in preparation for the case, and requested them to join him for breakfast for a face-to-face meeting, before the action began. As he left the hotel, Arjun was happy that he managed to meet them. In addition to their valuable technical input, Charles and Adara's uninhibited enthusiasm, and limitless dedication to the cause fuelled his determination.

## 

##  ___Chapter 46_

On the Tenth floor of The Palace Hotel, the assassin finished a formidable breakfast and walked to the balcony. This time, he was disguised as a musician, touring Mumbai for a show. His appearance completely transformed, he checked into the hotel with two huge bags containing a guitar and a keyboard. None of the guards had any suspicion about their contents and scanned the bags only as a matter of formality, not even opening them.

From the view offered by the balcony, he could see a blind lawyer accompanied by a colleague and two youngsters, a lean boy and a stylish girl, following them. Though the assassin didn't have a visual on the face, he was sure from the tall, well-built frame, neatly cropped hair, and the radiant cane that the man was Arjun, and his companion, Jose. Shifting his gaze to the youngsters, he stared at the stylish girl for a while, before forcing himself to the task on hand.

Carefully sweeping the premises of the High Court, the assassin was thinking about the right spot for the hit when a Rolls Royce Phantom arrived. Three men got out of the car; an old man dressed in white, a short, bald man in a dark blue suit, and a man dressed in black, who held a machine gun. They took their time to go inside, and by the time they were out of sight, the assassin made up his mind and turned around.

Back in the room, he placed his guitar bag on the luxurious bed, unzipped it, and pushed an inconspicuous button on the guitar, which instantly opened up. From the fake instrument, he extracted several parts, and began assembling them. Fifteen minutes later, a state-of-the-art, bolt-action sniper rifle came into being. Following a thorough examination of the neatly-oiled rifle, the assassin fixed the telescope on the top, inserted the magazine and attached the sling.

Then, he put a bipod by the window, placed the rifle on it and slid the window open, just a couple of inches. Taking his position behind the rifle, the assassin looked through the scope, aimed at a lawyer walking into the court, and adjusted the resolution. When his point of vision was absolutely clear, he sat back, waiting. As per his employer's instructions, he was to take the men on their way out of the court. That meant he had nothing to do, but to kill time until it was time for the kill.

## 

##  ___Chapter 47_

The police car tore its way through the heavy morning traffic with an ear-rending siren. The driver was well aware of the emergency and did everything he could, from driving on the footpath to careening down the wrong side, in order to make it to the High Court before it was too late. In the car, Helen sat back, and closed her eyes, attempting to subdue her growing anxiety. Though she passed on the information to the Fort police station, and informed the guards on duty at the court, she wanted to be present in person, and make sure that Shan was safe.

That morning, as soon as Helen finished her workout, she received a call from Ilahi who was proving to be more resourceful than she had imagined. She wondered if releasing Ilahi was the best decision she had made in her career so far. Following the information about the meeting at Alpine, Ilahi gave her the dead man's identity much before the crime branch managed to piece his head together. Though Ilahi's inputs had not produced tangible results yet, Helen knew they were making progress at a steady pace, better than ever.

Unbelievable as it was, Ilahi now informed her that the pirate mafia was planning to kill Shan at the High Court. "Madam," he told her, "This will be the beginning of a series of murders to stop anti-piracy actions. The Alliance against Copyright Piracy formed by Shan has hit their business very badly, and it seems that the people at the top want a serious, telling payback."

"Are you sure? I mean, about Shan," Helen had asked, unable to digest the gravity of his disclosure. "Yes Madam," he replied. "As certain as I can be."

Helen went on to inform Shivaji, Atre, and every other officer she thought could help before setting off for the High Court herself. Shivaji, and a few of her team members agreed to meet her at the Court as soon as possible. Once again, Shivaji was extremely wary about letting her go alone, and insisted on her waiting for him. But this time, she managed to wriggle out by simply disconnecting the call before he could voice his concerns.

##  ___Chapter 48_

Outside Court Hall 14, Arjun and Jose encountered an assembly of junior lawyers, awaiting Vinod Vachaspati's arrival. "Excuse us please," Jose asked politely, squeezing past three lawyers who were standing in front of the door.

"What are you doing, man," one of them yelled, shoving Jose by his shoulder. Staggering dangerously for a few seconds, Jose fell backwards on a fat lawyer behind him, his hands waving for a hold, but finding none.

In hind sight, Arjun would consider himself lucky that his hand lost Jose's guiding shoulder; else he would have been a victim of the heavy thud that followed. Owing to Jose's force, the fat lawyer swayed for a while, like a pillar, and went down, with Jose on top of him. The thump caught every one's attention, and everything went still. Arjun was the first to break the silence, "What happened? Are you OK Jose," he asked, his hands groping where Jose once stood.

When his mind started processing what had happened, Jose tried to roll over but the fat lawyer's beefy hands caught his neck. "I am not OK. This man is killing me," he managed to croak, struggling to free himself.

"What? Which man," Arjun asked, confused and concerned. As Jose started to squeal, Charles and another lawyer ran towards him, and attempted to pull the fat man's hands away.

"Monty, let him go. The poor chap will die," the lawyer shouted at the fat man. Taking advantage of the temporary let up given by Monty, Jose freed himself, and scrambled over the man, stamping him several times, before getting to his feet.

Then, if not for Jose's lack of proficiency in Hindi, the flood of abuse that followed from Monty would have been a riot. "What is this guy saying," Jose asked Arjun, his curiosity hitting the roof with every word Monty uttered.

"Nothing ground breaking. Let us go into the court room," Arjun said, his shocked face betraying his words. However, Jose did not heed him; instead, he went to the lawyer who pushed him, and said, "Don't you have common sense? Why would you do that?"

Despite the fierce look on the man's face, Jose continued, "You must remember actions have consequences. Imagine how much worse this trouble could have been." The man did not respond, but a hoarse voice from behind said, "That is not fair. I see that you are the one troubling everyone."

Enraged, Jose turned around shouting, "You could start with learning some manners." At that moment, a man walked to Jose and said, "That is Mr. Vinod Vachaspati. Take it easy."

"So what," Jose was about to continue his rebuke, but Arjun cut him off.

"Let us go inside," he asserted, holding Jose's hand. After silently warning Vachaspati by showing him his right index finger, Jose turned around and led Arjun into the court room.

Smiling at the stunned bystanders, Vachaspati greeted Shan and Lamba, who had just arrived. His face was completely devoid of the wrath that engulfed his mind.

What a beginning to the case, Arjun thought, as Jose seated him in the front row. Sitting by his side, "How can anyone have such a soft body? Despite the fall, I don't feel a thing," Jose whispered, bringing a broad smile to Arjun's worried face.

Absorbing the fascinating environs of the court room, Charles and Adara settled in the visitors' gallery and eagerly awaited the court proceedings to begin. Acknowledging greetings, and evading excited bystanders, Shan walked with Lamba towards the visitors' gallery and sat right behind the young creators of SHARE. Despite Charles's protests, Adara turned around and spoke to Shan.

"Good morning, sir. I am Adara, a great fan of your artistic movies," she said, extending her hand. As Lamba quietly explained her connection to SHARE, Shan pleasantly shook hands with her saying, "Thank you, madam. I am pleased to hear that you like my movies."

##  ___Chapter 49_

Justice Neeti Somaiya was the youngest, and the most technologically adept, of the judges in the Bombay High Court. By virtue of her expertise in intellectual property and technology laws, Justice Somaiya was often referred to as Tech Lady. Unlike many of her colleagues, she held no tolerance for rubbish, was always cogent and succinct, and hardly lost her cool. At exactly 8:59 a.m., Justice Somaiya entered the court hall, took her seat at the helm, and started her business in under a minute.

Before Arjun realized what was happening, the case was called, and he shakily stood up, mindlessly following Jose's repetitive instructions. "Are you representing Copyleft Foundation," Justice Somaiya asked, gazing amiably at Arjun.

"Yes, Madam," Arjun stuttered.

"Good. Mr. Vachaspati for Alliance Against Copyright Piracy, plaintiff, and Mr. Arjun for Copyleft Foundation, defendant," she said, glancing at them, as she announced their names. "I have reviewed the file, and these will be my ground rules:

"To begin with, each will be given 15 minutes to independently present your case. No one, except me, will interrupt you during this time. Then, we will spend time on rebuttals, and discussion for about an hour. Thereafter, I will try to deliver my preliminary judgment in the case as soon as I can. Is that agreeable," she asked, more as a formality, than for consensus.

Well acquainted with Justice Somaiya's approach, "Yes, my lady," Mr. Vachaspati responded immediately bowing, while Arjun courteously nodded his assent.

"A quick look at the facts," Justice Somaiya continued. "Students at IITB developed a file sharing software for enabling fast and efficient sharing of information of any kind. As I understand, the software allows sharing of a file broken into pieces, by taking pieces of the puzzle from different people, and unifying it into a single file. In other words, multiple people contribute parts to a person downloading the entire file. The software allows personal computers to act as data repositories, doing away with central indexing, and allows users to encrypt files for transfer. Simply put, it combines facilities offered by bit torrent websites, like Pirate Bay, peer-to-peer file sharing networks, like the erstwhile Grokster, and, security software, while at the same time doing away with a central website to facilitate sharing. Are we on the same page so far?"

Pausing for a few seconds for any objection, and receiving none, Justice Somaiya went on. "By virtue of its privacy features, speed, flexibility, and other capabilities, SHARE has been downloaded by more than 100 million users across the world in just three months of its launch. More than 30 million people in India use this software to share files of many types, including software, videos, music, pictures, documents, etc. As copyright infringing, in common parlance, pirated movie and music files are allegedly exchanged using SHARE, ACP has filed this copyright infringement suit praying for prohibition/take down of this software." Stopping once again, at this point, she enquired, "Is there any disagreement on any of the said facts?"

They did not contend, and Justice Somaiya ploughed forward. "Excellent. Now, the issue before us is whether the Copyleft Foundation, the current owner of the software, is liable for indirect copyright infringement because its technology can be used for sharing copyrighted content? The answer to this issue would be sufficient to decide this case."

Then, looking at Vinod, she asked, "No criminal action has been initiated against Copyleft Foundation. Am I right?"

"You are, right, as always my Lady," Vachaspati responded, smiling.

"OK. You may now proceed with your arguments. I would prefer if you people can make this a constructive discussion, rather than a destructive obsession."

As Arjun sat down, and Vachaspati started his submissions, Shan checked his watch. The plan was to showcase the importance of his crackdown on piracy, and the significance of this case by making an appearance in court. That, Lamba argued, would show their seriousness, and enable them to send a strong message through the media. They would make a press statement as soon as a favorable judgment was out, which Lamba felt would be a mere formality. It had been just 15 minutes to their arrival, and Shan decided to stay in court for some more time and witness the proceedings, which were getting interesting.

Several news reporters sat in court, jotting everything that was being said, looking at Shan once in a while, to decipher his mood. "You don't have to write much for a while now," an old journalist whispered to his junior.

"Why, sir?"

"Because Vachaspati will now take us to the origins of the law, which I am afraid will not interest our gossip–mongering readers. Besides, you will find most of this stuff in Professor Garon's book on entertainment law."

##  ___Chapter 50_

Finger on the trigger, the assassin sat at the window waiting for the moment. As his eyes scanned the premises over and over again, the assassin's mind drifted to his relationship with Francis. The man was a deadly combination of intelligence, ruthlessness, and guile. Devoid of human emotion, Francis was undeniably the most sophisticated criminal the assassin had ever met. Although he never understood what Francis meant by sending messages through killing individuals, he never questioned the man. But as days passed, Francis was giving him tougher and tougher assignments, drawing him out of his comfort zone, testing his patience and tolerance.

Like those of Viren and Khan, the assassin liked close-quarter kills rather than long range, open ones, which came with a bag of complications. But to his dismay, when he had proposed an alternative plan for taking Shan out, Francis simply dismissed it by saying, "This is not about just a hit, it is about its message."

The response was not convincing by any means, but the assassin knew better than to protest. Working with Francis was very lucrative, and he really needed the money.

Pressures of the job rarely got to him, but when they did, the assassin reminded himself of his little sister. She was suffering from spastic cerebral palsy, a motor condition that caused physical disability due to brain damage. Involuntarily, tears swelled up and the picture of a slouched, smiling girl with sparkling green eyes materialized before him. In an instant, her image drove away all the circumspection and fortified his resolve.

Back to the job on hand, the assassin continued his sweeping routine, when he heard a muffled sound behind him. Turning around, he saw a short, open-mouthed man, wearing a white apron, staring at him with very wide eyes. Realizing his error, the man attempted to step back, but it was too late. Drawing his knife, the assassin pounced on his prey like a wild cat.

## 

##  ___Chapter 51_

"My Lady, as you are very well aware," Vachaspati started, "The aim of the copyright system is to promote creative arts by granting rights to authors, artistes, producers, and performers, among others. A host of creative endeavors, from literary work to music and movies, are protected under the copyright law, with the whole and sole objective of rewarding creators, and encouraging them...".

"Since the first law on copyright protection for books came into existence in 1710 through the British Statute of Anne, copyright law has taken several leaps and bounds," the old journalist prompted as Vachaspati continued.

"Does he always use the same opening, sir," his young assistant asked.

"No, not always. He uses a different one if he is defending a pirate."

"...My Lady," Vachaspati said, "Today's copyright law protects all kinds of work: books, paintings, drama, music, movies, performances, broadcasts, recordings, lectures, and photographs. Authors, painters, sculptors, music composers, directors, and several other creators are protected under the law. Unlike the patent law, my Lady, the copyright law does not require a creative work to be registered, the protection is automatic."

"I did not know you do not need to register a copyright. This is very interesting. How then would I get it," Charles whispered to Adara.

"As you are very well aware, my Lady," Vachaspati went on, "All a creator has to do to get copyright protection is put his work in a tangible form like a paper, canvas, film, record, etc. The moment the work is expressed on any tangible material, including in electronic form, copyright protection begins. No money need be spent for getting copyright on a work. The law has been made so easy and friendly just for the benefit of creators."

"Wonderful. That means we have full copyright protection on the software we wrote for SHARE. Is it not," Charles asked Adara.

"No Charles, we don't. I read the agreement we signed with Copyleft Foundation, which you did not even bother to take a look at. By that agreement, they have taken away all our copyrights and other rights in the software," Adara replied.

"Idiots of the first order. They stole our copyright."

"Shh. Keep quiet."

"Your Ladyship is well versed with latest technological developments, so I do not intend to delve into those," Vachaspati ploughed ahead.

"He will not speak about those developments because he knows very little. Also, he knows very well that the knowledgeable Justice Somaiya will rip him apart on that aspect," the old journalist mumbled, provoking a wave of laughter from the people around.

"But I will say this. Today, every one of us is a creator. We create things on a daily basis using our digital cameras, software programs, mobile phones and other tools. Even a monkey with a camera can claim copyright protection over its shots. My Lady, irrespective of who it is, the creator is the one and only focus of copyright law, whose only objective is to promote creativity. Who benefits from creativity? Who benefits from copyright law, my Lady," Vachaspati asked, gesticulating dramatically.

Pausing for a couple of seconds, he stated in a soft tone, "My Lady, this is all for benefit of the society, for benefit of the general public, for benefit of you, me and all of us."

"Sir, is this also a repetition of his earlier arguments?"

"Yes, every bit of it. But you can never predict Justice Somaiya's response," the old journalist murmured.

"I do not agree with you, counsel," Justice Somaiya said. "If copyright law actually rewards creators, why was there such a hue and cry from writers and artistes alleging that producers and music companies are taking away the money they deserve, which finally led to an amendment of the law in 2012? The truth of the matter is that authors do not get anything from the success of their creative works. It is the copyright owners, the publishers, the production houses, the record labels, the large software companies and other business houses that reap benefits from works of creators. Several studies have shown that authors get less than two percent of the total revenue generated from their work. Tell me counsel, how much of the hundreds of crores made from movies like Krissh, Dhoom, and Dabang, or the revenue made by companies like Microsoft, IBM and Infosys has found its way into the pockets of its creators? It is the producers and the stars, your clients, who make all the money. Did you say benefit to society? I will pass it as a figment of your imagination, counsel."

Vachaspati anticipated this response and was ready for it. "My Lady," he said with a sly smile, "You are right, as always. But my honorable Lady, to answer your question, yes production houses show the box office revenues on their records. However, the numbers do not mean anything. Film producers, my clients, spend hundreds of crores on movies they make. They duly pay creators, actors, singers and all others involved in the movie, their due consideration to use their works. Over and above that my clients have been duly paying the creators equal share of any royalty earned from their creations, as mandated under the copyright law.

"Creators, My Lady, are getting their dues under the law and otherwise. But, my Lady, no one reports the huge investments made by film producers and risks they take. Stories of lost money are always forgotten, everyone assumes that all revenue from a movie goes into the producer's bank. The business of movie making is a tough one. Ninety five percent of the movies fail at the box office. And this is best case scenario; you can imagine the worst case scenario. The producer of a profitable movie has to share his profits with the stars, agents, theatres, and several others. What is finally left for the producer is very little.

"Despite the sad state of affairs, my clients always take the risk. Why do they do so? It is to promote creativity, to encourage creators, to entertain the public at large, and to bring forth new creations for the benefit of the society. That, my Lady, is the crux of the matter in this case," Vachaspati stated emphatically.

"You are mistaken, counsel. Creativity starts from creators, and not from producers, or record labels. A creator does not find inspiration to create because he hopes to gain financially. He creates, and then looks for options to earn money. Producers have not been providing them their fair returns, and as I understand from the legislative history, that is why the copyright law has been amended. Do you disagree?"

Contemplating for a few seconds, Vachaspati said, "My Lady, I agree with your good self. You are right in saying that creators must be given their due recognition and importance. But, my Lady, how can they be rewarded if their creation, movies, music, and other expressions of creativity, are being used without their permission; if their creativity is being stolen, and if their creativity has no value in the eyes of the public? All of this seems instigated by platforms like SHARE, and organizations like Copyleft Foundation."

"Who are your clients, Mr. Vachaspati? The authors, or the producers? You seem a little confused," Justice Somaiya remarked sarcastically.

"My Lady," Vachaspati said, the smile back on his face, "I represent ACP, an alliance of producers, who are friends, well wishers, benefactors, and most importantly paymasters of authors, and by representing producers, I indirectly represent the interests of authors as well."

"Oh, really. I am not sure if they would agree with that. Anyway, let us move on," Justice Somaiya said, gesticulating to proceed.

Bowing, Vachaspati continued, "Obliged, your Ladyship..."

The proceedings were getting very interesting even for Shan, who had a colourful, controversial life, but he had a meeting to attend. Checking his watch, Shan whispered, "We will leave in five minutes. Pass on the message." Lamba conveyed the instructions to the bodyguard, who nodded and walked out for a quick inspection of the corridor.

Outside, he bumped into Helen, who was running towards the Court. "Is Mr. Shan inside," she asked, panting.

"Yes, madam. Is there a problem?"

Not caring to respond, she rushed into the court hall. Spotting Shan in the gallery, and mindful of the decorum, she quietly requested him to step out for a minute.

"Follow him. You may have a story on hand," the old journalist told his junior. The young man quietly stood up and followed Shan out of the court.

##  ___Chapter 52_

##

After making sure they were away from ear shot of curious onlookers, Helen introduced herself. "Sir, I am Helen. I work with the Mumbai police."

"Everyone in the film fraternity knows you, Ms. Helen. You are quite well known in Mumbai. Is everything okay," Shan inquired.

Getting straight to the point, she said, "No, sir, we have a situation on hand. We have cause to believe that you might be in danger. Our team is on its way to the court and I request you to kindly help us."

"What danger? And how can I help you," he asked, confused.

"Unfortunately, we do not have specifics but one of our reliable sources has informed us that you might be attacked in court today. All I am asking for is time to secure the court, and allow us to escort you out of here," Helen requested sincerely.

Though threats were a common affair, and Shan rarely took them seriously, something in Helen's voice and demeanor told him this required serious attention. When Lamba added, "Sir, can we please follow Ms. Helen's advice? I really trust her," Shan made up his mind.

"OK, Ms. Helen. I have an important meeting in about two hours from now. What do you want me to do?"

"Sir, if you can kindly sit in the court hall, we will secure the place as soon as we can, and accompany you anywhere you wish to go."

"Alright, madam. Please make it as soon as possible. As I said, I have an important meeting to attend," Shan requested, before getting back to the court hall. Accompanying Shan until the door, Helen gave instructions to his bodyguard, and hurried to the security office of the court.

Inside the court room, Vachaspati was at his eloquent best. "Using copyrighted work of another person without permission is copyright infringement, my Lady. By downloading, copying and sharing music, films, books, software and other works on the internet, a person infringes the copyright owner's rights. The said acts, as you know, my Lady, give rise to both civil and criminal liability. A person who downloads, copies and shares films and music may not only be made to pay for his acts, but may also be arrested and put behind bars.

"In some states such as Maharashtra and Karnataka, repeat infringers are considered goondas, and can be detained for about a year without being produced before court. ... "

"Did you get any worthwhile info," the old journalist enquired as his assistant took his seat.

"No, sir. I could not hear anything."

"OK. We will report that Shan and Helen were seen in court discussing something confidential. An unknown source informed us that Shan had made the gorgeous Police Officer an offer to act in his upcoming movie and Helen has promised the producer that she will consider it seriously."

"But, sir ..."

"Don't worry, young man. This is how we work."

"Get their picture on your cell phone, if they meet again."

"No problem, sir. I already clicked one."

"Good. Very good."

"I am aware of the law, counsel. You get to the point," Justice Somaiya interrupted Vachaspati's monologue.

"Yes, my honourable Lady. The copyright law is so stringent because it wants to give maximum protection to creators and creative works. Without such safeguards, creators and copyright owners will not be interested in furthering creativity. The copyright law does not want that to happen and seeks to prevent any activities that are detrimental to copyrights and creative works. The platform, SHARE, falls squarely within the scope of what copyright law wants to prohibit, because it aids and facilitates downloading, copying and sharing of copyrighted content."

"Now is the time to put your pen to use. This is the crux of this case," the old journalist instructed.

"Millions of users use SHARE to distribute movies, music, and other infringing materials. My Lady, you would be surprised to note that a master print of every new music album and movie is released on this platform on the same day, or sometimes, even before it is released in theatres. The software is so simple that even a lay man can use it to distribute content."

"Do you find it that simple," Justice Somaiya asked, smiling.

"Yes, my Lady, I do."

"So, what kind of movies do you normally download?"

After the loud burst of laughter that followed died down, Vachaspati said grinning, "Unlike many others, my Lady, I use it only to access legally permitted documents, and data."

"Oh, really? So, counsel, are you suggesting that this is a great technology to share materials, and many "Good" people like yourself use it for legal purposes?"

"Yes my Lady, but the problem is that there are very few people like me. A study done by Survey Monkey, a renowned firm, indicates that more than 90 percent of people using SHARE use it for sharing copyrighted content, and presumably pirated content. Also, my Lady, the fact that SHARE is being used for sharing copyright infringing content has not been disputed by the defendant."

Looking at Arjun, Justice Somaiya asked, "Counsel for the defendant, do you agree?"

Arjun stood up and said, "Your honor, we agree that SHARE can be used to distribute any kind of content, copyrighted or not. But we do not agree with the Survey Monkey numbers being cited by the respected counsel. Moreover, we do not think that anyone can come up with the sort of statistics on the nature of content being downloaded without breaching privacy and data protection rights of users, or wildly extrapolating. Also, the fact that a novel technology can be used to download or share infringing content cannot be the basis for taking it down. Copyright law protects creative works, it does not stop novel technology."

Justice Somaiya raised her hand to stop Vachaspati, who was about to retort, and made some notes, before saying, "Counsel, you have five minutes left."

Deciding against rebutting Arjun's point, Vachaspati proceeded with his next argument. "My Lady, as claimed by the defendant, this case is not about novel technology. It is about use of such technology for facilitating illegal acts, and depriving legitimate rights of others. SHARE has neither been made available by Copyleft Foundation for enabling sharing, nor was it provided with the object of serving the society, as they claim. It has been created with the sole purpose of, and is being primarily used to encourage and facilitate copyright infringement. Meanwhile, Copyleft Foundation is making loads of money out of it," he emphatically stated, at the top of his voice.

Briefly pausing to let his statements linger, Vachaspati continued, "Every user of SHARE sees multiple advertisements every day, emails are sent with promotional materials, and by subscribing, content owners can sell their content, list it on priority, and pitch it to users, all for money." He lowered his voice at that instance and said, "My Lady, this is a money-making machine, not a sharing tool. It is a device to facilitate copyright theft, and use those thieves to steal from the society."

The statement provoked a hushed disapproval from the audience, and every one gazed at the judge in anticipation.

"Those are strong and provocative statements, counsel," Justice Somaiya commented, frowning.

"Pardon me, my honorable Lady. The active encouragement by the Foundation to use SHARE with complete knowledge that it would be used for infringing rights of copyright owners, and their audacity to profit from the same, troubles me. From the facts, any prudent and reasonable man would conclude that SHARE's ulterior motive is to make money at the cost of the copyright owners. The Foundation's claim of social contribution is just a front, a very naive and pathetic attempt at masking their real motives."

Breaking at this point, to clear his hoarse throat, Vachaspati finally said, "My Lady, I am a big fan of new technology, and so is my client. But what troubles us is that this technology has been created, promoted and is being actively used to gain by defeating the rights of copyright owners and creators. Allowing SHARE is akin to permitting sale of tools for committing theft; It would mean taking away the incentive to create and will begin the end of creative art. Most importantly, it signifies the destruction of a fundamental element of our society: respect for human dignity and cultural expression."

Vachaspati's exceptional oratory skills did not go unnoticed. Unable to withhold their excitement, a group of young lawyers started clapping, but instantly fell silent to Justice Somaiya's flaring eyes. Vachaspati bowed and said, "That is all from me, my Lady. I beg this honorable Court to stop SHARE, stall large scale copyright piracy, and save creativity." Vachaspati slowly went to his seat, as Arjun stood up, and walked to the well of the Court with Jose's assistance.

##  ___Chapter 53_

The cramped security office of the Bombay High Court had state of the art facilities, but was disastrous for a claustrophobic. Though Helen never had any problem with the tiny, dark room, she just could not stand the malodorous atmosphere. She held her breath and ran out as soon as she entered, gesturing the Central Industrial Security Force (CISF) officer to follow her.

Welcoming the fresh air outside, "Mr. Malik, how many people do you have on duty today," Helen asked, eyeing his badge.

Saluting, Malik said, "Madam, we have 10 men, and 4 women."

"I need a few people on an emergency basis. How many can you spare?"

"Madam, all of them are on specific security tasks," Malik replied tentatively.

"OK. How many of them are on rounds?"

"Two officers, madam."

"Can you ask them to come here as soon as possible," Helen requested, expressing a sense of urgency. The CISF was not under police control and Helen knew very well that she was in no position to solicit their resources, let alone give orders. As Malik considered her request, Helen wondered what was taking Atre and his team so long. Finally, Malik turned on his wireless set and called for the officers, but his face continued to exude confusion.

In an attempt to put him out of his misery, Helen said, "As you must be aware, Ganesh Shan is in court today. I may need your officers to secure his departure, and hence this request." To her pleasant surprise, the information was enough for Malik. He nodded several times as his mind processed the information and his expression changed from confusion to amazement, and then, to sudden comprehension.

While they waited for the officers to arrive, Helen enquired about the layout of the court, and discussed the viability of the plan she had devised on her feet. "But madam, we will need a large team for this to work," Malik said, hinting that he will not be able to spare many people.

"I understand Mr. Malik," Helen said, nodding. "My team is on the way. They should be here any moment."

Just then, two young, fit, CISF officers arrived and saluted. Subsequent to a short chat with them, satisfied with their competence for the job, Helen walked purposefully towards court room 14.

Perched at his window, the assassin wondered why the stunning celebrity officer was in court. "Does she know about the hit on Shan? That is impossible," he drove the thought away. Thanks to the high magnification offered by his scope, the assassin could see Helen very clearly and despite his apprehension, his mind could not help but admire her physique.

Relishing the opportunity, the assassin was following Helen from the security office on his left, towards the corridor that led to the court rooms on the right, when she abruptly broke her stride, and gazed thoughtfully at the hotel. As her line of vision moved vertically, the assassin instinctively dropped backwards, and flattened himself on the floor, his heart pounding. It took a few seconds for his analytical faculties to kick in, and when they did, he slowly got back to his gun, smiling at his stupidity. Not only was he shielded by the one way glass, and the thick curtains, it dawned on him that he was the one with the telescope, not Helen.

His focus restored, the assassin was back in position when he heard the gagged house keeper squeal and struggle against the locked closet door. "Shut up. You will be a dead man if you make another sound," he said ominously, without even turning around. The man got the message, and the room fell into a chilling silence. 

##  ___Chapter 54_

The hum in the court room faded as soon as Jose returned to his seat. "Your Honor," Arjun began confidently, "Contrary to my respected counsel's exposition, since its inception, the copyright law has been a tool in the hands of businesses, and not an instrument to further the interests of creators or authors. Though the 1710 Statute of Anne, the first Copyright Act, provided rights to authors of books, the direct beneficiaries of such rights were, and are even under today's law, the printers and publishers."

"I completely agree with this young attorney. Maybe you must note his points down," the old journalist told his assistant.

"Your Honor, initially, only books were protected under the statutory copyright law. Other works such as engravings, paintings, sculptures, drama, music, films, and sound recordings were given protection later through amendments and new laws. Though all these laws gave rights to creators, the benefits always went to publishers, commissioners, producers and other owners, who acquired works from authors for a pittance. Unlike in France, Germany, and certain other countries, we do not follow a creator-centric copyright system, and there is no mandate to share revenues with authors or creators.

"Your honour, even the 2012 Amendment to the Copyright Act in India only requires sharing of revenues with respect to literary and musical works, which form part of films. So, if an author is lucky enough to get a film contract, he will get an opportunity to claim royalty from his work. Else, he is at the mercy of the content owners, publishers and companies who hold copyrights to his work. These copyright owners exploit the creativity of creators to their commercial benefit. For example, an author of a novel gets less than 10 percent of the revenue made from a book, a painter gets less than seven percent of the sale value of his painting, a singer gets less than five percent of money made from his recordings. The Bhagats, Hussains and Nigams are exceptions, Your Honour, and not the rule. Unfortunately, it is a tough world out there for authors and creators. Success, Your Honor, for them requires nothing less than to climb Mount Everest."

"Oh my god, I did not realize the extent of exploitation," Charles said, turning to face Shan, who smiled at him.

"Charles, behave yourself," Adara rebuked, twisting him back to face the judge.

"Your Honor," Arjun went on, "Right from the start, the copyright law has always favored the ones with the economic muscle, never the poor authors. All of us in the copyright fraternity are well aware of how the copyright term was extended in the USA, when Walt Disney's Donald Duck came to the end of its copyright term. Did any money go to the person who created the character? None except for a small commissioning fee.

"As you are well aware, Your Honour, the anti-circumvention laws, which impose severe criminal penalty for breaching a security system that safeguards content, was the result of intense lobbying by the industry. All of us know how many creators and users of content fell prey to this law for merely exercising their legal rights to study the security system, and using the content for legally permitted purposes. Many creators were put in jail where they had to languish for a long time."

"That's awful. I think this happened to a young programmer at Harvard," Charles said to Adara.

"Yes, I remember reading about it in the news."

"Your Honour, though copyright law was meant for creators, it always furthered the interests of big corporations and businesses. It is to fight their copyright atrocities that the open source and Creative Commons movements, which promote free copying and sharing of creative work, evolved. They have been extremely successful. My client, The Copyleft Foundation, Your Honor, stands for these movements, which have been endorsed by millions of authors and creators across the world. Today, every company uses open source software, and all of us enjoy the benefits of Creative Commons works on Flickr, You Tube, Facebook, and so on."

"Counsel," Justice Somaiya interrupted, "We are aware of the background. In the interests of time, it will be good if you can proceed to the issue at hand: Whether your client's software, SHARE, is contributing to copyright infringement or not?"

"Obliged, Your Honour. I apologize for any inconvenience."

"No inconvenience, Counsel. You may proceed."

"Your Honor, SHARE, as the respected counsel for the plaintiff agrees, is, today, a symbol of innovation and technological progress. Simply put, it is the most efficient and effective tool available for information exchange, and the best part is that it is an open source software, available for free use, and development. Not only can any person in the general public install and take advantage of SHARE's information exchange, distribution and security functionalities, anyone seeking to improve it has access to the software's full source code under an open source license, the General Public License."

Pausing for a couple of seconds to let this sink in, Arjun continued, "It is amply evident from the facts, and I need not prove to this court again that my client's purpose with respect to SHARE or otherwise is purely altruistic and society driven."

"Wait a minute, counsel," Justice Somaiya stalled him. "The issue in this case is about copyright infringement and not about technological innovation, do you agree?"

"Yes, Your Honor, the case is without doubt about copyright infringement, but under its garb, the ACP is trying to impede invention and technological progress. From what respected counsel Vachaspati said, the law is meant to protect creators, and not to control innovation. But contrary to that, what the plaintiff is asking is for a moratorium of a new technology because one of its uses happens to be for copyright infringement."

"But, counsel, when the technology's primary purpose is to facilitate copyright infringement through sharing and exchange of pirated movies and music, is it not right for the copyright law to intervene?"

It was an anticipated question and Arjun was ready with an answer. "Firstly, your honor, SHARE is a platform that facilitates sharing, it could be legally used to share any kind of data. Secondly, it may be possible to use many new technologies for wrongful purposes and that possibility, as claimed by my learned friend, cannot be the basis for prohibiting a technology, or impeding progress. Doing that would be akin to stopping sale of photocopy machines, video recorders, iPods, or other new technologies capable of copying content, just because there is a possibility that they might be used to make illegal copies. Your Honor, courts across the world have laid down in unambiguous terms that any technology that has legal uses should not be prevented merely because it can be used as a tool for copying or sharing.

"In this case, Your Honor, my client's technology can be used for sharing any content, copyrighted or not. Just because some people are using it for sharing copyrighted films, the technology cannot be taken down."

"Well said. Looks like this young man is going to give Vachaspati a run for his money. I think we need to give him extra ink in our report," the old journalist said.

"Yes Sir."

"This boy is good, very good," Shan said to Lamba.

"Yes, but ..." Shan silenced him when Justice Somaiya spoke up.

"Mr. Arjun, before you go any further," Justice Somaiya interrupted, "You divert from the point. The question is whether a technology has commercially significant non-infringing uses, and how a company profits from it. Companies like Xerox, Sony, and Apple make money by selling devices, and not from the use of technology like your client, whose profits are directly proportional to the number of users, who use SHARE primarily for exchanging copyrighted or pirated content. Your client earns money by directly or indirectly encouraging copyright violations by users. The greater the number of users, the greater is Copyleft Foundation's advertising, subscription, and marketing revenues. Why should the copyright law not stop such technology for promoting infringement and piracy?"

Everyone in the court now looked to Arjun for his response. "This is where they lose, Sir," Lamba whispered to Shan.

Justice Somaiya had captured and questioned him on the weakest link of his case and Arjun silently cursed Bob, who, for some reason, had been evading answering this very question. Owing to Bob's unwillingness to provide information on SHARE's financials, Arjun could not face the issue head on, and so, attempted to dodge it. "Your Honor," he said, with feigned confidence, "SHARE is a platform for sharing content, and it has substantial non-infringing uses like the copy machines. Copyleft Foundation has neither the knowledge nor control over the software's usage. The user is free to use the software for any purpose as he pleases, and its security feature enables confidential data exchange, if the user desires to do so. Making my client liable would mean making a company like Google liable for making Gmail available for exchanging mails and information, some of which could be illegal."

The entire court was impressed, and there was a hushed murmur in the room. Justice Somaiya hit the gavel twice to silence them before speaking.

"You still have not answered my question, counsel," she said, annoyed. "You are comparing apples and oranges. Gmail is an email service, enabling private communication, while SHARE is a file sharing network, where most files shared are pirated copies. Moreover, your self-proclaimed altruistic client is profiting from such piracy."

Considering Justice Somaiya's persistence, Arjun gave up his evasion strategy, and said, "Your Honor, I am not denying the fact that Copyleft Foundation is raising money from the user base of SHARE. For various reasons ranging from developing other technologies useful to the public at large, to enabling a free culture of creativity, my client needs money, and SHARE is just one way of raising such funds. Even assuming without conceding that 90 percent of content exchanged on SHARE is pirated, the rest 10 percent is still very large, amounting to more than five million legitimate files. It is, I believe, sufficient to show that SHARE is contributing to substantial legal, non-infringing uses. And, Your Honor, it must be duly noted that my client encourages people to use SHARE, and not to share pirated content."

When Arjun paused, Shan quietly stood up and reluctantly followed Helen out of the court. He was impressed with Arjun's confidence, and inspite of Lamba's assurance, did not think their case was one sided. Taken by Arjun's wit and captivated by his grit, Shan wished that he had more time on hand to sit and watch the able young man, who, it seemed, could see the world better than most people around him.

##  ___Chapter 55_

Instead of taking a right out of the court hall towards the exit, Helen led Shan to the left, into a long hallway, enveloped by court rooms on either side. The escorting CISF officers steered them from the hallway through a series of corridors, before finally landing them amidst the chambers of justice, offices of the judges. They passed a small, ornate door guarded by two constables holding machine guns, and exited from the chambers into a parking lot, reserved only for officers of the court. As soon as they reached the drive way, Helen swiftly ushered Shan into her waiting car, and drove through the back gate, Atre's Jeep shadowing them.

Five minutes later, lost in a sea of automobiles, Helen heaved a sigh of relief, while the car safely inched towards Juhu. However, in the court, having opted for the tougher part of the plan, Shivaji was far from breathing easy. With a gun in his hand, he watched anxiously as Shan's bodyguard and Lamba walked out of court surrounded by six armed constables. "If at all there is any danger, it can only be now," Shivaji said to himself, actively sweeping the area, as the Rolls Royce came forward and pulled over.

The bodyguard's hand was on the front door of the car when it happened. His body jerked once, went still and fell rearwards, like a log. Instinctively taking refuge behind a pillar, Shivaji yelled, "Get down.". While four of the constables took flight, two of them ducked behind the Rolls Royce, pulling Lamba with them. Their timely response did not prevent the shot that hit Lamba and threw him to the ground. The loud shriek that followed had a deafening effect muting the slug rain that pelted the bulletproof car.

Shivaji cautiously peered at the thick of action from his position. From the frequency of the shots, he concluded that there was only one shooter, and based on the angle of the hits, he guessed his position. One quick scan of the hotel was enough for him to spot the origin of bullets. Noting that the shooter was in range, Shivaji raised his gun, and sent a series of shots his way, shattering the window glass. The shooting abruptly stopped, but Lamba's shrieks continued with reinforced ferocity. Despite the discomfort, Shivaji was glad the man was alive.

Taken aback by the unexpected counterattack, the assassin lay flat on the floor, shocked by the audacity and accuracy of the officer. He did not expect to be spotted, and even if he was, retaliation was never on the cards. The danger of hurting a civilian was too high and the assassin did not think the police would risk a shot at him. But now, after the close shave, he knew he was not dealing with a normal policeman and decided to get out before it was too late. Quickly packing his gun, his only valuable possession in the room, the assassin quietly stepped out and raced down the deserted fire exit, disappointed at missing Shan, and hoping against hope that Francis would give him another chance.

Two minutes later, Shivaji stood next to the Rolls Royce, which looked unscathed, except for a few dents and scratches, while the CISF men worked on Lamba's bullet wound. Looking at the dead bodyguard, Shivaji knew that the hit man was a professional, and that Lamba was very lucky to be still breathing. Once the head of CISF took control of the situation, Shivaji re-grouped his men and made his way to the hotel. Though he knew that the assassin would be long gone, probably without leaving any clues behind, Shivaji went inside in search of that one error every human is genetically predisposed to commit.

##  ___Chapter 56_

##

Swayed by his sagacity, enervated by his eloquence, and awed by his acumen, the audience listened to him with rapt attention as Arjun went on. "It is not the creator who benefits from the copyright system, Your Honor, it is the copyright owner," he reiterated. "Most earnings from creative work goes to the publishers, production houses, record labels, galleries and so on, not to the authors or artists. Unfortunately, we don't live in a fair world, my Learned One, we live in a self seeking world. The highly hyped provisions of 2012 Copyright Amendment, which gives special benefits to only movie writers and composers, totally disregarding other creators amply elucidates the self-centered motives of its lobbyists. Everyone in the copyright system is only bothered about themselves."

"Where are you going with this circular argument, Mr. Arjun? I fail to understand how your submission is linked to our case," Justice Somaiya asked, confused.

Smiling, Arjun said, "It is in this world of egoism that my client stands out, Your Honor. Freedom of thought, expression and creativity at its core, the Copyleft Foundation has been working tirelessly for public welfare and the culture of commons. Unlike the plaintiffs and other stakeholders in the copyright system, my client has been thriving to disseminate knowledge through disbursement of information and has been hugely successful. SHARE, Your Honor, is just a messenger of information and not an abettor of piracy or copyright infringement as my respected friend claims."

In a mocking tone, Justice Somaiya said, "Very dramatic, Mr. Arjun. The problem is that SHARE is acting as a conduit for copyright violation, and your client has full knowledge of this. By staying quiet and doing nothing about it, the Copyleft Foundation has been willfully blind. The commercial benefits from SHARE compound your client's intent to profit from large-scale copyright violations. On the face of it, the social motives of Copyleft Foundation seem, to me, to be nothing more than a mere front for illegal deeds."

All eyes were now on Arjun, and he could feel their anticipation shroud him. "Your Honor, the explanation fits perfectly into the facts of this case, and if I were seeing it through the eyes of ACP, it would even be a logical conclusion. But if the same were to be seen through the eyes of a reasonable common man, a person considered for most tests under the copyright law, the story would obviously seem different. Such a man would perceive SHARE as a tool to share information without fear of compromising on privacy and confidentiality. For the sake of freedom, freedom to live a life with dignity, freedom from totalitarianism, and freedom from restraint, my client has voluntarily given up control of SHARE. It is not willful blindness to infringement your honor, it is willful kindness to the society."

"Willful kindness? How enlightening," Justice Somaiya scoffed. "But counsel, I don't think cleverly making money amounts to any form of kindness."

Arjun was contemplating an appropriate response when a CISF officer barged into the court room. "What can I do for you, officer," Justice Somaiya asked the panting man.

"Madam, there was some shooting outside the court building. For safety reasons, I request you to go to your chamber," he managed, amidst short breaths.

"What shooting?"

"Madam, a person has been shot dead and another man injured."

"Oh I see. Are things under control now?"

"Yes, madam, but we don't want to take any chances."

Considering the suggestion of the urgent-sounding officer, Justice Somaiya said, "Thanks for the information, officer. I will take your suggestion under advisement."

"Thanks, Madam," the officer replied and left. He did not understand what Justice Somaiya meant, but there was nothing he could do and hence got going.

##  ___Chapter 57_

"Sir, we have secured Shan. Is everything under control in the court," Helen asked anxiously. Once Shan was safely tucked away in his office, Helen called Shivaji, eager to learn his side of the story.

"Where is Shan now", Shivaji wanted to know, not answering her question.

"He is in his office, sir. I have posted two of our men for security."

"Post two more. And Helen, not those fat, lazy ones."

"Definitely, sir. What happened at the Court?" Helen persisted.

Shivaji breathed heavily and said, "The bodyguard is dead, Lamba is in the hospital with a bullet wound, and the perpetrator got away. Overall, I have managed an excellent job of goofing up."

"Sir, please do not...," she could not finish.

Cutting into her feeble attempt at consoling him, Shivaji said, "Sorry Helen. It is my fault. I did not take your advice seriously and now people are dead."

In the awkward silence that followed, Helen searched for a fitting response, but could not muster one in time.

Fortunately for her, Shivaji broke the quiet before she managed to blurt something inappropriate. "Can you come over to the office? Considering recent developments, I would like to take a fresh look at things."

Helen did not hesitate. "Surely, sir. I will be there in an hour."

"Thanks, Helen. I appreciate your co-operation." Shivaji's words were saturated with guilt, and Helen did not like it one bit.

On her way to the office, Helen felt queasy. Images of Shivaji kept rolling in her mind, and the inexplicable sorrow that filled her heart only made it heavier. It was not about the dead bodyguard, nor was it about the botched operation, it was about Shivaji. Every single time she pushed it away, the realization of her feelings for the man returned, each time much stronger than before.

##  ___Chapter 58_

"Your honor, my client has neither contributed to nor induced copyright infringement in any manner. Making my client liable for creating and giving to public an excellent sharing tool would be analogous to holding Graham Bell liable for use of telephone for criminal activities, or Alexander Fleming for side effects of penicillin. I humbly pray before your learned self to dismiss ACP's suit without wasting any more of your precious time. Your Honor may kindly consider awarding costs and attorney fees to prevent baseless actions of this nature in the future." Arjun's prayer was met with quite a few smiles, few raised brows, and fewer frowns. Nodding, face devoid of any expression, Justice Somaiya announced a 10-minute recess before the rebuttals.

Earlier, prior to Arjun resuming his arguments, the scene in the court room was a feast for journalists. As soon as the CISF officer left, Justice Somaiya said, "I wish to continue the proceedings as per plan. Do you have any objections?" Before Vachaspati and Arjun responded, an elderly man in the visitors' gallery stood up, and said, "I am proud of your decision, madam. We Mumbaikars are a tough lot. We get going, when the going gets tough. Never have we let the heartless, faceless and toothless cowards get to us, and we will not let them do it now. We have shown several times from Black Friday to 26/11 that how much ever they try, they cannot touch the dauntless spirit of Mumbai, and we will show it once more." The room burst into a loud round of applause, swallowing up voices of consensus.

Later, when order was restored, Vachaspati said, "My Lady, I concur with your opinion, and that of the honorable gentleman. I have no objections in proceeding with the case."

"What about you, Mr. Arjun", Justice Somaiya asked.

Arjun simply responded, "Your Honor, I seek your permission to continue with my submissions." With that, the case went ahead, unperturbed by the gunning, and oblivious to the hurly burly outside.

##  ___Chapter 59_

Sipping on her coffee, Justice Somaiya said, "Counsels, let us start the rebuttals session. As I indicated earlier, we will not be following the standard procedure, and I will interrupt only, if and when, things get out of control." The unique rebuttal process was new for Arjun, but Vachaspati having argued before Justice Somaiya several times earlier was well aware of the format.

"Your Ladyship," Vachaspati started, "My learned friend here has tried hard, very hard, to show that Copyleft Foundation is an online messiah, working for public benefit. I would have been convinced, my Lady, totally convinced, if not for one tiny problem." Making a quizzical face, and scratching his head, he asked, "If it is providing selfless service to the society, why, my Lady, is the Foundation interested in making money, tons of money. The answer to that question, my old wisdom has failed to work out."

"Your Honor," Arjun responded, "Every organization, irrespective of the nature of its purpose, needs to raise funds to pursue goals. That is the case even with the highly revered and regarded groups like Missionaries of Charity. Different organizations raise funds in different ways, and my client has chosen the path of raising funds through one of its technologies. That is perfectly legal, and I am not sure why Mr. Vachaspati is fretting about it."

"Whether the activities are legal or not is for the Honorable Court to decide, is it not," Vachaspati said to Arjun in a mocking tone. "My Lady," he continued, "The ends cannot justify the means, even assuming without conceding, that the defendant's ends are genuine. The Copyleft Foundation is raising funds by encouraging copyright infringement, an illegal act in itself, whatever it might be using the funds for. It is like justifying the sale of narcotics because the drug dealer is running an orphanage."

Annoyed with the analogy, Arjun retorted loudly. "Your Honor, respected counsel for the plaintiff seems to be drawing conclusions at his whims and fancies, and relying on those conclusions to draw unwarranted inferences about the bona fides of my client. Any person with average intelligence would understand from the way SHARE is structured that Copyleft Foundation has neither knowledge, nor control over the files being exchanged by users. Unlike Napster, Grockster, and Mega Upload, which have been shut down, there is no central index of files, no support or help is offered, and there is no active involvement in file transfer on SHARE. My client is completely hands off, and is in no way encouraging or inducing infringement, and there is nothing illegal about its activities as claimed by my respected counterpart."

Waving his hands slowly, Vachaspati laughed aloud. "My Lady, the learned counsel is taking an ostrich-like approach. According to him, once you close your eyes to what is happening, you are free from liability. This is the essence of willful blindness. I find it ludicrous that everyone in the world except Copyleft Foundation knows that 90 percent of content on SHARE is pirated content. What has the Foundation done to stop this? Absolutely nothing. The simple step they need to implement is a policy, and a technology measure to prevent, control and take down such content from their platform. But, my Lady, they will not do it. Because that will reduce their user base, advertisement revenues, subscription lists, and the money they make."

"Your Honor, all of a sudden," Arjun replied, "The learned counsel for ACP is beginning to sound like a tyrant. His orders: impose controls on what people can do and we will let you go. In other words, kill the freedom of users to exercise free will, kill the very philosophy my client stands for: free culture of creativity and sharing."

He took a long breath before continuing, "I wonder how the learned counsel got to the figure of 90 percent; probably another of his fancies, but I have this to say. All kind of content is being exchanged, and I believe that includes pirated content. However, contrary to the opinion of counsel for plaintiff, I don't think existence of infringing content is enough to show my client's liability. What needs to be shown is that my client instigated or encouraged sharing of such content, which he has utterly failed in demonstrating or proving."

"I will repeat my point once again for your benefit," Vachaspati snapped. "Just answer these questions for me: being aware that infringing content is exchanged using your tool, have you not consciously refrained from taking any steps to stop it? Are you not benefiting from the exchange of infringing information and user base through advertising and other means? By doing these things, your client has violated the law, and brought liability onto itself, much to your displeasure."

"Although it is not necessary to answer your questions, I will," Arjun replied. "We have knowledge that all kinds of information is being exchanged and have consciously stayed away from monitoring or interfering in such transfer for the sake of safeguarding privacy, ensuring confidentiality, and most importantly, protecting freedom of users. My client is making money, but that is not from infringing content, it is from the user base, irrespective of the nature of content being shared."

"My Lady, despite the choice and interplay of words, the counsel for defendant just accepted that they are profiting from SHARE's user base, most of which is built due to availability of infringing content. That, I believe, is enough to establish liability for indirect copyright infringement."

"I disagree, Your Honor," Arjun retorted. "My client is in no way liable for any sort of infringement. Holding my client liable would amount to impeding progress of technology, curbing creativity, and usurping user freedom."

"My Lady," Vachaspati submitted, "Letting SHARE, and similar technologies survive will have a chilling effect on creative activity, by providing a tool to rob creators of the rewards they deserve to get. Every time a pirated movie or music is exchanged, many creators are losing their deserved remuneration for labor. Your Ladyship must stop SHARE, and thereby uphold creators' interests."

Arjun finally responded saying, "Creativity springs from freedom of thought and expression, and stalling novel technology can in no way help creativity, Your Honor. We cannot hope to promote one type of creativity by demoting another."

"Alright gentlemen, I have heard your arguments and appreciate your insights," Justice Somaiya said, when they fell silent. "I will review the case, and call for another hearing. Until then, this case will remain pending. I hope you will be able to appear once again during the next two to seven days."

"Of course, Your Honor." Both, Vachaspati and Arjun concurred on something for the first time that day.

Charles and Adara watched the rebuttals open mouthed, and sat still and speechless until the judge ended the proceedings. "This is freaking great," Charles said, looking at Adara.

"I absolutely agree with you," Adara replied, walking after Arjun and Jose.

"What a duel! It has been a long time since I witnessed such arguments. That young man stood up to Vachaspati all along. I even have a headline for our story tomorrow: A Clash of Equals. We will push for front page"

##  ___Chapter 60_

Standing at her white board, Helen was adding to the muddle of facts, when Shivaji stepped into the room.

"Hello, Helen. Terrible traffic. Sorry to keep you waiting."

"Not a problem at all, sir," Helen said, turning around, smiling. Looking into his deep, brown eyes, Helen involuntarily shook his hand, relieved that he was back to his confident self.

Grinning, Shivaji said, "That board of yours seems to be having a busy day. Do the jumble of arrows running in all directions make any sense to you?"

Returning her focus to the board, Helen said, "Yes, sir, they do. Like always, I have a theory. Farfetched, but possible."

"Helen, there's no need to pre-judge. I am all ears for your story," Shivaji stated, sitting.

"Alright. Here we go," Helen started, picking up a pointer. Pointing at the list of names on the board, she said, "Sir, this is the list of the dead and missing people along with their murder dates." The list included Sagar, ex-president of Copyleft Foundation, Khan, founding partner, Krish and Khan, Viren, leading entertainment lawyer, Thambi, senior pirate, Shan's bodyguard, and the two copyright lawyers, Paras and Robin.

"As you can see from the arrows, all of them, in one way or the other, are related to copyrights in general, or piracy in particular. Now, keeping that dangling for a while, please see the data under Project Pi," Helen said, moving the pointer to the right top corner of the board.

"Project Pi of ACP started with raids and involved preventive detentions, criminal actions, online measures, and court cases against pirates, or their affiliates. From our intelligence reports, Project Pi has been very successful. The numbers indicate that this is by far the most effective anti-piracy action by the film industry so far."

"I am aware of that Helen. What is your inference," Shivaji asked, slightly edgy.

Nodding, Helen went on, "The case against Copyleft Foundation received great attention from the media, and Shan is very serious about winning it for obvious reasons. Based on my conversation with Lamba, Project Pi has not been going as smoothly as it started. All their actions are being defended, not just passively, but very aggressively."

"Was it not expected? The pirates are hitting back."

"Yes, we are on the same page about that. Pirates are responding, and it is clear from my research, and Ilahi's inputs, that they are an extremely well organized group."

"That they are. So?"

"Sir, who are these pirates, and how are they so organized? What are their links with terrorism? The questions, as you will agree, have been haunting us for a long time. Now, I think we have a rare opportunity to find an answer. Unlike earlier, the pirates are defending themselves today in public forums, wherever ACP attacked them. They are now coming out, and I believe that is a great opportunity for us."

"How and for what," Shivaji asked, confused.

"Sir, so far, they are faceless, but now they will have to fight with a face, and once we identify each face, we can work backwards to find the brains behind piracy."

"It is beginning to sound like Greek and Latin, Helen. Can you try once again?"

"Sir," Helen said patiently, "If we can look at all defendants in the piracy cases filed by ACP, we may get a clue about who is helping the pirates, and through them, maybe, get to the top of the piracy chain, and probably solve the murder mysteries as well."

"Let me repeat this to make sure that we are on the same page. You feel that the murders are connected to piracy, Project Pi is being defended by pirates, and by investigating the persons defending, you plan to get to the minds behind piracy, and maybe solve the murders, and maybe, uncover their links with terrorism. Am I right?"

"Yes, sir, you are bang on."

"OK. Have you done any leg work on this so far?"

"Not yet, sir. If you permit, I will start now."

Shivaji was quiet for a while, taking in everything Helen had said to him. Then he said, "Go ahead, Helen. Do you need any additional resources?"

"No, sir, not right away. Atre and his team will be enough to start with. But can you please make sure that Shan is under protection round the clock, after my men are relieved from their duty?"

"Of course, consider that done. Other than that, what else can I do for you," Shivaji asked sincerely.

Unable to muster an immediate response, Helen stood still gazing at him while her mind jumped from thought to thought. Thankfully for her, Shivaji broke the uneasy silence, saying, "Alright Helen. Do let me know if you do need anything."

"Yes, sir," Helen responded unconsciously, her eyes fixed on him as he slowly stood up, and walked out.

##  Chapter 61

"Could you please get me an extra bowl of sambar," the assassin requested the waiter, relishing every bit of the idli as he ate. Unlike many of his friends from Bihar, the assassin loved South Indian food, and especially the one served at Vishwa Bharati restaurant at MG Road, Mulund West. Having been a daily customer, the staff at the restaurant knew him well, and he always received privileged treatment. Aware of the routine, the waiter placed a cup of filter coffee on his table as the assassin diligently cleaned the remnants of sambar from his plate.

As he savored the coffee, the assassin's mind reflected on that morning's conversation with Francis. "You have only one more chance to finish the job, else nobody can help you," Francis gave him an ultimatum.

"Don't be ridiculous Francis. You talk as if it was my fault. You know very well that there was a leak on your side. How else do you think the police got wind of the plan," the assassin protested.

"I am looking into it, Balaji. Irrespective of the reason for failure, you must be happy that you are still on the job. You have to do it this time, come what may. Boss is sitting on my head."

"I will try my best, Francis. You know how this works. One can never be completely certain."

"I know. Just make it happen, Balaji, for our sake." Since their days with the Grey Hounds, a special team set up by the Central Government to fight Maoists, Balaji and Francis remained great friends. As members of the sniper team, they were partners, Balaji the shooter, and Francis his spotter, until the team was disbanded, owing to its utter failure.

Unwilling to take the positions offered to them in the police force, both of them quit government service and parted ways, Francis plunged into organized crime, and Balaji into private security. Despite their divergent paths, they stayed in touch with each other. To support his ailing sister's health needs, the assassin often freelanced for Francis, who was more than happy to utilize his special skills to accomplish difficult tasks. It was a win-win relationship all along, but in the recent past, the cold-blooded hits were starting to trouble Balaji. How much ever he thought, he could not rationalize the acts, and keep his conscience clear.

"This will be my last task, Francis. I will keep my end of the promise, and I hope you will keep yours," Balaji said, earnestly.

"I will Balaji. As always, you will get your payment as soon as the job is done. Arrangements have been made to move your sister to a premier hospital in Germany."

"Thanks, Francis. I appreciate your help."

"No problem. You are family and the goodwill extends to your sister. Now, focus on your job."

"Good morning, Balaji sir. How are you doing today," the owner of the restaurant, Shetty, asked, breaking into his thoughts.

"After this delicious breakfast, I am having a wonderful morning," the assassin replied, smiling. Paying and bidding good bye to Shetty, Balaji walked down the stairs, onto the kerb through the hotel's southern exit.

## 

##  __ Part IV

## The Hit

## Chapter 62

Waiting for the hearing, Arjun and Jose decided to stay back in Mumbai. After three boring days, Arjun was wondering if he should just fly back when he received a call from Adara.

"Sir, we discovered an aberration in SHARE's financial transactions. Could we meet you today," Adara asked, skeptically. Aware of Arjun's plight in Mumbai, Adara had offered a tour to IITB the previous day, which Arjun reluctantly, and Jose enthusiastically, accepted.

"Of course, Adara. Do you want us to come to your campus," Arjun asked, looking for an opportunity to get out of his room, and visit the vibrant campus once again.

"Not necessary, sir. We can come over to the hotel."

"Sure, whatever works for you. Is everything alright," Arjun asked, noting the tension in her voice. "We are slightly concerned Sir. We'll give you the details once we get there."

An hour later, Arjun and Jose sat in the hotel's expansive coffee shop listening to Adara and Charles, paying no heed to the soft music. "Sir," Adara said, "We did not believe it initially, but Charles has double checked it. There is definitely something wrong with SHARE's financial transactions. The payment modules are not linked with Copyleft Foundation's bank accounts. The money is going to someone else's account."

"How do you know this," Jose inquired.

"I hacked into Copyleft Foundation's servers, sir," Charles responded, proud of himself. "Once I was there, we used a sophisticated tracer program to track fund transfers. None of the first level, or subsequent transfers seemed to end in the Foundation's bank accounts."

"OK, how did you get hold of the Foundation's bank account details," Arjun enquired, amazed.

"That was the easiest part, sir. Their bank accounts are listed on their website and other donation websites. It is more or less public information," Adara said, smiling.

"In whose accounts is the money ending up?"

"We do not know that, sir. After jumping a couple of accounts, the tracer was blocked at a highly secure system, most probably in Switzerland," Charles surmised.

"Is it possible that the Copyleft Foundation is using a different account for these kinds of transactions? Maybe, one of their foreign counterpart's accounts."

"Possible, sir, but not probable. Why would a non-profit organization wish to mask their transactions? It does not make sense to me."

His mind, blurred with conflicting thoughts, Arjun tried hard to process the information. Charles's conclusions were filled with too much conjecture and he found it difficult to accept a software program's verdict. Realizing that there was only one way now, he picked his phone to call Bob, but Jose stopped him.

"Arjun, there is more than what meets the eye here. If Charles and Adara are right, we must scout for further information. Don't you agree?"

That made sense, and Arjun decided to let the impulsive call wait. Addressing Charles and Adara, he said, "You have done great work. Would it be possible to dig further about the transactions like volumes, frequency, number of accounts, and so on?"

"It is tricky, but we'll try, sir. Nothing is impossible with Charles around," Adara said, grinning. Then, Charles and Adara finished their coffee and left the hotel hand in hand.

Once they were out of sight, Jose said, "Arjun, I think they are in love."

"Well, how does that matter?"

"It doesn't."

"What now?"

"You tell me, Arjun. You are the boss." Pensive for a while, Arjun said, "Here is my plan..."

##  ___Chapter 63_

The SMS was short and cryptic. It read, "Attack on Shan at studio, 8 a.m." Helen tried calling but Ilahi's phone was off.

"Did he turn the phone off as soon as he sent the message," she wondered, redialing to hear the same message. Though the SMS conveyed the essential information, Helen wanted to learn further. Messaging Ilahi to call her as soon as possible, she placed a call to Shivaji.

As the phone rang, Helen wondered if she was making it a habit to wake him up in the middle of the night.

"Hello Helen," Shivaji said enthusiastically, his voice devoid of any hint of sleep.

"Sir, I just got a message from Ilahi. An attack has been planned on Shan."

"When?"

"At eight in the morning," she said, hoping that is what the SMS meant.

"By who? How? Do you have further details?"

"No, sir. Considering Ilahi's prior leads, I think we must take this seriously."

"I agree. But more information would have helped," Shivaji said, exhaling noisily.

"Anyway," he continued, "Let us get moving on what we have."

"Sure, sir. I plan to place two teams at the studio. One team of six in uniform, guarding the campus, and a second team of four, scouting the area."

"Sounds good to me. Be sure to check possible sniper positions in the area. These guys are smart."

"I will personally do that, sir."

"OK. I will see you there at about 5 a.m.. Can't sit and wait while you guys run around."

"OK, sir. See you at the studio."

Once she ended the call with Shivaji, Helen spoke to Atre and gave him necessary instructions. She also called the inspector on duty at Shan's house, and asked him to beef up his force. She instructed him to escort Shan with two of his best men to the studio. Basic preparation out of the way, Helen hit the bed, and hoped to get some sleep. But the alarm never got a chance to wake her. Dressed by 4 a.m., the scheduled alarm time, Helen sat at her breakfast table and sipped on a large cup of black coffee. She expected action that morning and hoped that the coffee would bolster her reflexes.

##  ___Chapter 64_

At 5 a.m., the calm, mild drizzle aggravated to torrential rain, reducing visibility substantially, bringing outdoor activity to a standstill. Standing atop a high-rise building opposite Shan's studio, Helen hoped that the rain was troubling the assassins as much as it was troubling her. Owing to the sudden downpour, Shivaji was stuck on the way and, to her dismay, was not going to be here any time soon. Though he did not have a specific role to play, his presence, somehow, inspired everyone, and Helen preferred him around.

Standing by her side, Atre yawned for the third time and, once again, failed utterly to hide it from Helen.

"Do you want to get some coffee," Helen asked, smiling.

"No, madam. Yes, yes Madam," Atre said uncomfortably, placing his hand on his bald head.

"There is some coffee in my car. Why don't you ask the driver to fetch it?"

"I will get it myself, Madam." Atre walked away, not waiting for her response. Smiling to herself, Helen walked to the balcony, stretched her hand, and felt the rain.

Though he loved the rain as much as Helen did, Shan was too troubled to enjoy it. He sat in his spacious study, gazing absently at the splashing water outside, thinking about his first days in Mumbai when life was much less complicated, awaiting the arrival of the star he created with his own hands, Raj Khanna, the Baadshah of Bollywood. As usual, Raj was late but Shan didn't seem upset. Considering the escalating tension between them, Shan had very low expectations, and was happy that Raj actually made it to the meeting.

"Good morning, Raj," he said, standing up to greet the young, muscular man. "This better be worth my time Mr. Shan. What offer do you have for me," Raj asked, getting directly to the point. Humility had, lately, not been one of Raj's selling points. Shan wondered if this was the same man who had stood outside his office for five days pleading for a chance and vowed his life, if Shan needed it.

"Well, Raj, I request you to complete this movie as per schedule. I have put a lot of money in, and it is not fair to pull out midway. As you know, we are releasing the music today, and there are great expectations around the film."

"These are your issues Mr. Shan. What about me? What about the promises you made for this, and earlier films? Is it fair to break them with no reason or rhyme?"

"Raj, you know better than anyone else that many things have changed in the industry after the recent copyright amendment. Producers are to share royalties with music directors, writers, singers, and even actors like you. We have to respect and follow the law if we have to sustain, prosperity notwithstanding."

Waving dismissively, Raj said, "Shan, remember that you make money because of stars. Fans watch movies for me, and not because you have invested. To do anything, you must keep me happy. Else ..." Shan did not need Raj to say the rest. The rest was unsaid, yet clear.

Trying hard to keep his rising temper under control, Shan said, "I agree with you, Raj. Would you be open to a partnership in this and earlier films instead of our earlier arrangement?"

Laughing aloud, Raj said, "Shan, stop fooling. Money from the old movies is gone and what will I earn from your partnership anyway? A few crores?"

"More than a few crores, Raj. Content is king today. Any clever person can make a ton of money from licensing content. Satellite, television, internet, mobile, and radio, among others, provide a world of opportunities to make money from copyrighted content. Trust me, you will not regret this decision."

"There you go, Shan, empty promises. You equivocate very well. Did you not just say that you are barely surviving? If you don't make money, how will I benefit from this lucrative partnership?" Shan did not respond to Raj's question. By now, he had lost any hope he had left of convincing this arrogant man, and decided to fight it the hard way.

"Alright Raj," he said, as courteously as he could manage, "I believe we have a serious disagreement. Please think about my proposal. We shall discuss this another day."

Shan walked to the door as he spoke and held it open for Raj to leave. Offended by the gesture, "This movie will never see the screen," Raj uttered, glaring at Shan as he slowly walked out. Shan did not see a need to respond. He just shut the door and called his new bodyguard. "Please keep the car ready, we will leave in ten minutes," he instructed, picking up the music disc on his table.

##  ___Chapter 65_

While it was an annoyance to many, the rain was a blessing in disguise for the assassin. The advantages it offered -- minimal surveillance, shielding effect and additional shooting positions -- outweighed the rain's drawbacks by a huge margin. The assassin excelled in harsh environments, and the spring in his stride that morning was unmistakable. Climbing up the steep, slippery stairs of the eleven floor building under construction, he thanked god, for a wonderful start to his day.

On the tenth floor, the assassin silently walked in, and swept the empty, concrete shell inch by inch. Finding no hint of danger, he settled next to a panel, the wooden poles and construction materials in the front shielding him perfectly. He took his time to assemble his rifle, and when it was ready, he fixed the state-of-the-art track point auto-aim scope on it.

The scope is more than a dream instrument for a sniper, especially under adverse conditions. Once a target is identified, the shooter has to just tap a button to fix it. The scope then tracks the target with the aid of a laser. Then, all that a shooter has to do is pull the trigger when it is time to shoot. The scope handles everything ranging from temperature and humidity to wind speed and direction.

The view of the structure was blurred by the rain, but that did not matter to the assassin. Not only was he using a very advanced technology, he was also absolutely confident about his abilities. To be doubly sure, he activated the GPS tracker, which would identify Shan's cell phone location to ensure he would not hit the wrong person. Though he was more certain than speculating on the unlikely, he could not afford to take any chances, as this was his last chance. Once all was set, the assassin sat, patiently awaiting Shan's arrival.

##  ___Chapter 66_

When Shivaji arrived at 7 a.m., Helen was standing in the studio's security booth, drenched from head to toe, waiting for him anxiously.

"Good morning, Helen," Shivaji said, squeezing into the booth as fast as he could.

"Good morning, sir. I am glad you made it," Helen said, smiling.

"I hate these rains," Shivaji responded, wiping the water from his frowning face. "I don't think Shan is under any danger today. If I were the killer, I would call this off. Is everything under control?"

"Sir, we did everything we could. I personally checked all buildings for possible sniper positions, and found nothing suspicious. Our team searched every inch of the studio, and it is clear as well. Now, they are scouting the area, and have not noticed anything suspicious so far."

"I doubt if they will find anything in this rain. Are you certain about the information?"

"Yes Sir, I am as sure as I can be," Helen replied, her tone defying the certainty in her words. Ilahi having gone incommunicado worried her, and she couldn't help fear getting the better, or worse, of her. She involuntarily pulled her phone out, and re-dialed Ilahi's number, only to feel helplessness and dismay.

"Let us worry about Ilahi later. Call the inspector escorting Shan and find their status," Shivaji said, reading Helen's mind.

"I called him, sir. Shan is on his way to the Ganesh temple on Marine Drive, and our team is following him."

"Hmm. OK." Shivaji thought and said, "What if we have been consciously misled, and the attack would be at the temple."

"But sir, in that case, it would have been easy to carry out the attack without informing us."

Assuming the countenance of a preacher, Shivaji replied, "Helen, I can think of several reasons from tricking our escort team to let their guard down at the right location, to fooling us for fun. Besides, this is just a gut feel."

No sooner had he finished his statement, he took off towards his car. Utterly surprised, confused, and annoyed, all at the same time, Helen mechanically ran after him. Within a few seconds, their car raced through the rain, towards the famed abode of Lord Ganesh. Sitting tight by Shivaji's side, Helen quickly alerted the inspector escorting Shan and hoped that her boss was wrong.

##  ___Chapter 67_

The upcoming tussle with Raj was not going to be easy and Shan knew it better than anyone else. Sitting in his cozy car, he wondered how far the man would go to win. It was obvious from his reaction that Raj would not cooperate in shooting the rest of the movie and its promotion. As only 10 percent of the movie was left, a body double could be used, so that did not worry Shan much. Considering Raj's popularity, Shan was painfully aware that promotion would take a hit, but there was nothing he could do about it.

Trying to not stress, Shan thought about the music release scheduled at 10 a.m. that morning. Though the expenses went overboard, the iconic music director Raymond composed music that was truly extraordinary and Shan was confident of its success. Visiting the Ganesh temple on Marine Drive before a music or film release was a tradition Shan religiously followed and, as always, he had with him the old, ornate, sandalwood CD box, which he would place before the almighty for blessings.

When his Phantom reached the gate of the temple, Shan took his own time to step out, giving the bodyguards and the policemen, who just joined them, an opportunity to quickly survey the surroundings. The rain was still heavy, and despite Helen's message, none of them expected any trouble at that moment. Forming a ring around Shan, they casually walked with Shan towards the rugged, stony flight of stairs that led to the temple. That instant what every security person dreaded occurred on the third step. Shan's body jerked, went limp, and fell backwards, and blood shot out from his forehead.

Looking at the bodyguards, who formed a shield around Shan, a little too late for their liking, the assassin smiled. The hit was perfect and he was happy. Gazing at the dumb struck faces of the bodyguards, he could not help swelling with pride. Dialing Francis, he said, "Job done; crisp, clean and clear."

"Well done, the funds will be transferred within an hour. Now, get out of there."

The assassin did not feel the remorse he normally felt after a kill. Instead, he was ecstatic; all he could think of was his sister and the advance care she would receive now. Discarding the cell phone, he quickly packed his bag and quietly climbed down. At the ground level, he slowly walked towards the exit of the building, when he heard a harsh, loud voice behind him.

##  ___Chapter 68_

"Stop. Don't move," Helen ordered, her gun pointed at the assassin. Owing to their maddening speed, Shivaji and Helen managed to reach the temple, just a minute after the assassination. As soon as they reached the venue, Shivaji instructed Helen to search the building in front of the temple. He did not have to explain, Helen was smart enough to understand that it would be the most logical station for the killer. She raced towards the building, drawing her gun out as she got close.

Inside the unmanned building, Helen was carefully scanning the ground floor, when she first heard the footsteps. She followed the footsteps and soon, the assassin materialized. Thanks to her concealed position behind a panel, he was unaware of her presence, until she presented herself. On seeing Helen, the assassin froze, shaken and perplexed.

"Raise your hands very slowly. Do not try anything funny. I am just waiting for an opportunity to shoot you," Helen warned, taking a step forward.

Obeying her order, "What is this about, madam," the assassin asked, feigning ignorance, and hoping to buy some time.

Disregarding him, Helen said, "Now, turn around." Quickly working out an escape plan, the assassin decided to take his chance. Pretending to turn around, he abruptly lunged forward, simultaneously swerving towards the right, hoping to get to the shelter of a panel near the exit. The assassin was surprisingly quick, but not quick enough for Helen, who instinctively pulled the trigger.

Helen's bullet passed through the assassin's neck, inflicting a fatal wound, and blood gushed out of the gaping hole. As he slumped to the ground, Helen walked towards him, fearing the worst. All the assassin could think about with the blinding pain rushing to his head, and blood filling his lungs was his little sister. Noticing Helen by his side, the assassin attempted to say something, but could only managed a faint hiss, "Sss...," before the lights went out. It all came down in a matter of seconds, and Helen stood still, watching him helplessly.

This was her first kill and despite who he was, Helen found it difficult to swallow the fact that she just took a life. Shivaji had warned her against looking into the eyes of a dying man, and she now knew what he meant. As a volcano of alien emotions erupted in her mind, Helen could not hold the sea of tears that flooded her face. It took her several minutes to regain composure and report the incident. 

##  ___Chapter 69_

Articulation and logical reasoning were not his best of strengths, but he was the best with research. Jose was Arjun's eyes on the internet and legal databases. Arjun relied heavily on Jose under pressing circumstances, owing to his speed and ability to find remote data. Lost in the virtual world, Jose caught no sleep all night, and when Arjun woke up at 6 in the morning, Jose had a ton of data for his perusal.

"Arjun, I found some interesting information," Jose announced, following Arjun to the rest room. "Give me a minute. I will be right back," Arjun said, shutting the door on Jose's face. Visibly disappointed, Jose stood right there, waiting for Arjun to return. When he finally stepped out, five minutes later, Jose threw a series of facts at him.

"The Copyleft Foundation has filed 16 copyright cases in India."

"Let us say you found 16 reported cases. There may be more."

"Yes. Yes, of course. Interestingly, all cases I found have been settled, or ex parte orders were granted in favor of the Foundation."

"What kind of defendants have they targeted?"

"Nine of them are film production houses, or record labels. And the rest are large companies in software, animation, publishing, etc."

"Did you find any cases, where the Foundation has joined the fight, directly or indirectly as a defendant?"

"Yes, I found seven. Five of them have been withdrawn, and two settled."

"OK. Any idea about the precise nature of these cases?"

"Broadly, their suits fall under three categories, Copyleft license term violations, challenges to copyrightability or ownership, and fair dealing." Those issues were in line with Copyleft Foundation's goals, and Arjun was not surprised.

"Have you done any research on the people involved in these cases?"

"I did, but could not find any pattern," Jose said, unenthusiastically. "Many of the Foundation's cases were represented by Chandra Sagar," he went on. "Parties on the other side were always represented by the top lawyers in the jurisdiction."

"Give me some names."

"Vinod Vachaspati, Viren Bhatia, Paras Nair, Abhishek Chauhan, Jayant Mehta, and so on."

Mulling over the information, Arjun asked, "How many of these cases relate to piracy, especially where Copyleft Foundation is a defendant?"

"Hold on, Arjun. Let me see." Jose reviewed his data, while Arjun paced back and forth anxiously. "Actually, all of them," Jose said, astonished.

"Hmm... all these cases have been withdrawn. Yes?"

"Yes. How did you know," Jose asked, amazed.

Ignoring Jose's question, Arjun enquired, "Can you tell me the names of lawyers representing the five withdrawn cases?"

Taking some time to research, Jose said, "Viren, Paras, Robin, Viren again, and Srinivasan."

"OK. I know that Viren is dead. What about the others?"

"Are you saying that ..."

Arjun did not let Jose finish, "Please do it, Jose. I need to rule out the possibility."

Frowning, Jose got to work. All he needed to do was perform a Google search for the names. As Jose reviewed the results for each name, a sense of foreboding shrouded his mind.

Ten minutes later, horrified at what he discovered, Jose managed to say, "Arjun, I can't believe this. All these lawyers are dead." On hearing the news, Arjun stopped walking, and a numbing, ominous silence filled the room. After a while, Arjun quietly asked,

"Jose, how did they die?"

"All of them have been murdered, and the investigations, based on what I could gather from the news reports, seemed to have hit dead ends."

"Hmm...," Arjun thought long and hard, before responding. "I have a bad feeling about this. First, the financial transaction blackbox, and now, the murders. We must think this through carefully going further." Jose was too terrified with his discovery, and could only manage to slowly nod in consonance with Arjun.

##  ___Chapter 70_

##

Jose's discoveries were not easy to digest and Arjun experienced a mind-numbing chill when news about Shan's death reached him. It threw an already frozen mind into a state of coma. Adding to his woes, Jose received a call from one of Vachaspati's juniors, who informed him that they would be withdrawing the case against Copyleft Foundation.

"Why?" Jose inquired, but the junior knew very little and had nothing to offer, except that it was his senior's decision.

"Arjun," Jose stammered, "This does not seem fair at all. I am really scared."

"That makes two of us," Arjun said, placing his hand on Jose's trembling shoulder.

"What should we do, Arjun?," Jose asked, looking at Arjun expectantly.

Taking time to think, Arjun said, "We will try to set this right. Before we do anything, I would like you to research on one last thing."

"Tell me," Jose prompted, moving to his computer. "Research all the lawyers who represented Copyleft Foundation. Let me know, if you find a trail."

While Jose ploughed through the internet, Arjun called Adara for updates.

"Sir, we made no progress whatsoever. Our access to SHARE's backend has been withdrawn, and we have been informed that the Copyleft Foundation has pulled out on the project. In short, we lost our research fund along with everything relating to the software, which is unfortunate. We protested, but it seems that the Foundation holds all copyrights on the software. Can you help us regain a hold on this?"

"Adara, we will get to that later. Where is Charles now?"

"Sir, he is right here and completely disgusted with the whole affair."

"OK. Have you heard of Shan's murder?"

"Yes Sir, we are shocked to learn about his death. Why do you ask, sir?"

"I can't explain now, but I would like you guys to stay indoors for a few days. Stick to your hostels, and class rooms. Do not go out for any reason."

"OK, sir," Adara said half heartedly.

Arjun was swift to think about the safety of Adara and Charles, but was not fast enough in thinking the same for himself. Just when he finished the call with Adara, the door bell rang. A voice announced "Room service, sir." Unsuspecting, Arjun walked to the door, and opened it.

##  ___Chapter 71_

"Sir, this will be the end of Project Pi," Lamba stated remorsefully. Propped up on his hospital bed, shoulder bandaged, Lamba was not a pretty sight, trying hard to stem the tears that grew into a steady trickle.

"Don't worry, Lamba. I'm sure there is an opportunity in everything," Unni, his boss, tried consoling him, but it was of no avail. Finally, throwing his pretense away, Unni brought up the topic, he wanted to discuss. "After Shan, do you think they will pay us for our efforts? You did work very hard, and deserve the due returns."

For the first time in his career, Lamba felt a strong disgust towards his boss, the man, who brought him so far. At some level, he, until that moment, connected with him, and believed that money was everything. But now, after surviving an attempt on his life and witnessing Shan perish, the things he aspired for seemed inconsequential. All of a sudden, he felt revulsion for Unni, and wanted him out of there.

"Sir, I am very tired," he said, and closed his eyes, hoping Unni would get the hint. The old man did get the message, albeit in an unpleasant manner. "You take good rest, Lamba. We will think about your job when you get back. Nothing is certain these days," he muttered under his breath. Keeping his job was the least of his concerns and Lamba was glad to get Unni out of the room.

"Bye, Sir," he said as Unni left disgruntled.

As soon as the door closed, Lamba picked up his cell phone and speed dialed 1. Now that Shan was gone, his promise to him did not mean anything, and he felt an urge to avenge his death. Over the last few months, he had grown very fond of Shan and felt an unbelievable sense of loss. When Helen finally answered, he said, "Madam, Lamba here. May I meet you today?"

"I am very busy, Lamba. Is it urgent?"

"Yes Madam. This is regarding Shan. I might be able to help you."

##  ___Chapter 72_

"Yes?" Arjun asked, facing a stone faced lady, dressed in blue and white, holding a silenced gun in her hand. The killer did not expect a visually-challenged target and was surprised to see Arjun. She was taken aback by Arjun's reaction, or rather the lack of it, and took a few extra seconds to pull the trigger. That gave Jose enough time to warn Arjun.

"Arjun, Gun!," he shouted at the top of his voice. Instinctively, Arjun ducked, narrowly missing the bullet, which hissed by his ear.

The lady with the gun lined up another shot, when Arjun threw his cane at her, sending her second shot amiss. The killer stepped forward with pursed lips and pointed the gun at Arjun's head, and just as she was about to pull the trigger, his hand rammed into her stomach. Simultaneously, thanks to Jose's presence of mind, a very loud alarm went off, doubly impacting the lady's focus.

Arjun's next blow got her hand with the gun, which flew away deep into the corridor. She realized her precarious state and swiftly changed her mode of attack. Taking a few harmless hits, she managed to crash her knee into Arjun's injured nose. The unbearable surge of pain that followed blurred Arjun's vision, and he lost consciousness, falling backwards like a log. That proved fortunate for Arjun, because, if not for his fall, the killer's knife would have penetrated his chest.

Though she was keen to finish him, the lady could not get another jab at Arjun. Seeing Jose stumble towards her with the bedside lamp held precariously over his head, and the security guards fast approaching, their batons drawn, she withdrew and took flight. When Arjun woke up, two hours later, he was on his bed, his nose, once again heavily bandaged. Arjun attempted to sit up, but the doctor gently held him back.

"Please relax, sir," the young doctor said, giving him an injection, which sent him to oblivion.

##  ___Chapter 73_

Helen considered the developments and could not help wondering if it was all coming together at once. Though the SIM card of Shan's assassin could not be located, the crime branch specialists managed to collate parts of his phone, and were working hard on retrieving data. Helen felt a wave of optimism as she headed to meet Lamba at the hospital.

"Tell me, Lamba. This better be worth it," Helen said settling on the couch by his bed.

"Madam, I am very sorry for the trouble. If not for my state, I would have come over to your office."

"That is OK. Let us get to the point."

"Madam, the film business is nothing like what it looks on its face. A dark and ugly world underlies the glossy facade. Shan was a good man, he wanted to clean up the dirt, and bring integrity, professionalism and transparency into this business. Also..." he went quiet, as tears rolled down his cheeks.

Helen did not speak. She sat patiently, waiting for him to regain composure. When he finally did, Lamba said, "I am very sorry, madam," wiping his face clumsily with the back of his hands.

Nodding, Helen said, "No problem. I can understand".

"Madam, our fight against piracy is not as straightforward as it seems. It comes in the backdrop of historical, deeply ingrained business practices in the Bollywood industry," he went on. Helen heard Lamba with rapt attention as he explained Shan's efforts to cleanse Bollywood of piracy, and establish a model that would benefit all stakeholders from producers to authors.

When he finally finished, Helen said, "I understand that many people disagreed with Shan and his methods. Music composers' association, singers' association, performing rights society, Kapoor, Singh, Khanna and several other bigwigs opposed Shan's war against piracy. Also, threats from the mafia were a daily affair from the start of Project Pi. But you do not know who exactly could be behind Shan's murder."

"Yes, madam."

"Alright, Mr. Lamba. We will work on your leads. Having said that, I must inform you that this is very general information and is not actionable. It will, however, be helpful, if you can work through your contacts, and get us some specific data about Shan's dealings."

"Sure Madam, I will do my best. I want those bastards to pay for killing a good man."

##  ___Chapter 74_

On the way back to her office, as the driver weaved through the traffic, Helen sat back, and wondered what else was awaiting her on that eventful day. When her car finally stopped, she hurried towards her office, and greeted the men in waiting, Arjun and Jose, whom she remembered from the Court.

"What happened," Helen asked, studying Arjun's plastered nose, and bruised face.

"Madam, Arjun just survived an attempt on his life," Jose began. Then, he quickly narrated Arjun's encounter with the killer in a dramatic tone.

"Are you alright now? You don't look too comfortable," Helen asked, concerned about Arjun's state.

"I am fine madam, except for a slight pain," Arjun replied, wincing as he spoke.

"Ok. Please tell me. What brings you here?"

"Sorry for coming unannounced, madam," Jose apologized.

"That's alright. How can I help you?."

"Madam, this is about the Copyleft Foundation. We found some worrisome information about them and wanted to apprise you about the same. We felt that it might help you with your investigation."

Helen's interest peaked instantly, and she asked, "What did you find?" Starting with the financial transaction blackbox, Jose explained the litigation patterns of the Foundation, before moving to the astounding fate of lawyers.

When Jose was finished, Arjun said, "The shocking part is that even the lawyers representing the Copyleft Foundation went missing, or went straight to their graves. Even Chandra Sagar, a great lawyer, an ardent follower of the Foundation's philosophy, was not spared. You may call these facts and statistics accidental coincidences, but there's more to it. I believe everything has a reason, and the only explanation I can think of for all this, is the real Copyleft Foundation we do not know of. My gut says that the Foundation's real business is piracy, but I cannot prove it. Assuming that they are linked to copyrights in one way or the other, what other business can spin such big revenues?"

By the end of it, the pain had become unbearable, and Arjun's hand was on his bandage. His explanation made perfect sense, and Helen wondered why she could not connect the dots earlier. But there was too much information processing in her head at that point and her thoughts were completely blurred. She needed to get to her board to put the information together and make sense of it.

Contemplating for a while, she said, "Arjun, this sounds logical, but there are several missing pieces in your story. And even if we wish to take action, there is nothing we can do without, as you know, some concrete evidence. So, we must corroborate this story with some substantiated data."

"I agree."

"In the meantime, I don't think it is safe for you to stay where you have been attacked. Would you be open to moving into a police safe house?"

"We will certainly do that," Jose preempted Arjun.

##  ___Chapter 75_

After ensuring that Arjun and Jose were safe in a remote apartment, close to the police headquarters, with an armed guard on duty, Helen headed back to her office. To her surprise, Shivaji was in her room, scribbling something on her white board.

"You got me hooked on to the habit of thinking on the board," he said, without turning around.

"Are there any new developments, sir?," Helen asked, eyeing the re-arranged information on the board, and not very pleased with it.

"Yes, we have some good news. The tech guys have come back with a couple of leads. Shan's assassin has called a guy by the name Francis, and a girl by the name Gayatri, before the hit. Francis was in the Grey Hounds with the assassin, Balaji, and we do not know much about the girl. Our team is now working on their co-ordinates."

"Sir, do we have a file on Francis?"

"Yes, we do. But, after grey hounds, it is quite hazy. You can read it all in the document on your desk."

"Ok, sir," Helen said, picking the document.

"How did your meeting with Lamba go? Was the trip of any value," Shivaji asked as a matter of formality, not really expecting anything from her.

"Yes, sir, I did get a little out of the meeting. But interestingly right after the meeting with Lamba, I met Arjun, the lawyer for the Copyleft Foundation who gave me a meatier scoop of information; easily the biggest of the breaks so far, I would say." "Tell me all about it," Shivaji said, moving away from the board, and sitting down.

Helen walked to the board and erased everything Shivaji wrote, and wrote three headers - Piracy, Film Industry, and Copyleft Foundation. Then, consciously avoiding eye contact with Shivaji, Helen rapidly filled names under each header. She then created a chart of the piracy organization structure in the empty space. Once all the writing was done, she connected the information on the board with arrows.

Shivaji's jaw dropped as she effortlessly drew lines in all directions. The piracy chain was connected to all three heads. The three heads were connected to each other with double-sided arrows. And names were connected to each other by double arrows. After that, Helen elaborated the complex diagram that took shape, and Shivaji never got an opportunity to close his mouth.

"Are you serious," he asked when she was done.

"Yes. As you can see, every single action fits into the larger scheme, and we know how this business has sustained so far, without any setbacks."

"Though it is complex, I can understand Copyleft Foundation's involvement, but the film industry? I cannot fathom this. Is content not their bread and butter?"

"It is, sir, and under this scheme, it still is."

"OK. If you believe that this is true, you must have some good evidence to corroborate your story." "No, sir, unfortunately, I don't. That is where I need your advice. I want to gather something concrete to move on this."

##  __ Part V

## The Hunt

## 

## Chapter 76

As always, Kapoor and Singh were in their drunken mood that gloomy evening, . Kapoor poured himself a third glass of whisky and the newly appointed president of the ACP started on his monologue. "Project Pi was a sheer waste of money, and I have decided to pull the plug. We can use that money for a better cause," Kapoor said, eyeing his fast emptying glass.

"But, sir, it has produced excellent results so far, and Shan had great faith in the initiative," Zakir protested.

"Shan is no more, and now I am..."

Singh interrupted Kapoor and said, "Zakir, you are right, Shan had a great plan. In fact, something no one had tried to do earlier, and we at the ACP are committed to it. But at this point, we need to hold back for our own good."

"Young man, you must understand that besides protecting the interests of producers, I also have a responsibility to ensure that we do not meet Shan's fate," Kapoor added, taking a large gulp.

"I understand, sir. Our options are limited, aren't they?" Zakir said, giving up his disagreement.

"That's good, Zakir. Now, there are a few things we must address immediately," Kapoor continued, standing to re-fill his whisky glass once again. "Firstly, we must cease all activities relating to Project Pi, especially the cases that were initiated. Thinking ahead, I have already asked for the withdrawal of the case against Copyleft Foundation."

"What?! Did you say that you pulled out of the SHARE case, Mr. Kapoor," Zakir asked, not believing his ears.

"Yes, I did. And trust me, it has already proved to be a smart move for all of us," Kapoor said, smiling with pride.

"But we would have won the case very easily."

"Maybe, maybe not. But we would have surely lost the war."

It did not make sense, but Zakir knew better than to persevere. By now, he clearly understood his place, and merely nodded his assent.

"Good, very good," Kapoor slurred. "All cases shall be withdrawn shortly, and we will announce a press release tomorrow that the ACP will be stalling Project Pi as a token of respect for Shan. By doing so, we will not only cease all activities, but will also be sending a strong message to everyone in the film industry that all promises will be honored. Once that is done, the industry will function smoothly."

"If I may ask, Mr. Kapoor, what promises are we talking about?"

Gazing pitifully at Zakir, Kapoor was about to launch into a discourse, when Singh said, "There are many things about this business you do not know Zakir. We will let you learn them by yourself. I will say this though. Contrary to what you youngsters believe, most things are not black and white, and can never be so in an industry that runs on word of mouth, trust, and belief."

Whatever it was, Zakir was by now exhausted, and not interested in probing. "Alright, sir. May I take your leave now," he asked, packing his bag.

"Of course, Zakir. If only you had grown up, we would have had a long, spirited discussion," Kapoor said, pouring his friend Singh another drink. As Zakir bowed respectfully and walked out, he heard Kapoor and Singh toast, "For Shan, and his Project Pi."

##  ___Chapter 77_

The conversation was short. Thoroughly annoyed with him, Shreya had a lot to say, and Arjun could not afford anything more than silence.

"Get your ass here by tomorrow morning, or else ..." The last words before the phone went dead echoed within the confines of Arjun's head, and however hard he tried, he could not shake them off.

"Why does Shreya always make me feel weak," he wondered, while the inevitable uncertainty that stemmed from the love for his wife clouded his mind.

"Let us go," Jose's excited voice broke into Arjun's thoughts, bringing him back to reality. Dressed in his black track suit and newly-acquired Nike shoes, Jose was ready for the mission, and raving to get out of the dim apartment. The thick curtains, and poor ventilation of the safe house gave Arjun the feeling of staying in a dungeon, and he completely understood Jose's impatience. Moreover, his lungs longed for fresh air, his body for exercise, and his mind for a challenge, inspiring him to step out as fast as possible. He quickly slipped on his shoes, picked his cane and felt like a free bird as he walked out of the apartment, for the first time in five days.

"Take care, sir," the hefty guard advised, while Arjun and Jose descended the stairs. Outside, Arjun activated the GPS in his phone, and entered his destination, Gateway of India. "She has a sexy voice," Jose commented, straining to make sense of the directions emanating from the smart phone. Two minutes later, Arjun and Jose were coasting on a deserted road, when they heard a loud screeching of tyres from behind.

The incident that followed was a blur, and neither Arjun nor Jose knew what hit them. Lying tied up on the floor of the speeding van, Arjun attempted to re-construct the episode, but his mind went no further than blankness. Arjun touched Jose, who lay motionless by his side, and he could not help fearing the worst. The thick tape on his mouth left the option of calling his assistant out of reach, and he listened hard for proof of life.

After a few painstaking seconds, Arjun heard a muffled noise against the roar of the van, which sent a surge of relief through his mind. But when he thought about the fate that awaited them, the feeling vanished as fast as it appeared.

"Why the hell did I not listen to the officer? It is entirely my fault. Jose is in danger because of me," Arjun cursed himself. The trip of guilt Arjun's mind took thereafter ended only when the van came to a halt, and fear displaced it.

##  ___Chapter 78_

From the voices, Arjun guessed that there were three men, and one woman in the vehicle. When the rear of the van opened, he could hear the sound of waves lashing, and it was not difficult for him to deduce that they were by the sea. The men placed a mask on Arjun's head, the ironic redundancy of which, despite the tension, brought a smile to his face. When their legs were untied and they were roughly pushed out of the van onto the sand, Arjun's inference received a confirmation, broadening his smile.

After a bit of pushing and shoving, the difficult sand gave way to a firm metallic surface, which, after a few steps, dipped into an unstable vehicle. From the swaying under his feet, it was easy for Arjun to infer that they were on a water vessel. Once every one boarded the yacht, Arjun and Jose were made to descend a flight of stairs, bundled into a cabin in the basement, and were relieved of all physical restraints. In the dingy, yet brightly-lit cabin, they came across a tattered and battered young man. The wounded man was in such a bad shape that Jose could not hold back a loud shriek.

"What happened," Arjun asked, holding Jose by his shoulder.

"Arjun, this man here is in a terrible shape."

"Which man? Can we help him in any way?"

"I don't know, who he is, and I don't think we can do anything."

"Jose, take me to him," Arjun said, grasping Jose's arm. When they were close, Arjun knelt by the man's side and asked, "Sir, my name is Arjun. And this is Jose. What is your name?"

"I am Ilahi. Arjun Sir, I know you," the man managed to whisper. "What happened? Are you alright?" "Your client is a dangerous man." Before he could complete the sentence, the door groaned, drawing their attention to it.

##  ___Chapter 79_

"Welcome aboard." Bob's loud voice echoed within the confines of the metallic room. Guns drawn, Francis and Pido stood by his side, and assumed aggressive positions. "You did extremely well in court, Arjun, but beyond that, you are a big disappointment."

"What did you expect, Bob? Unlike you, I don't lead two lives," Arjun retorted, showing no hint of fear.

"Yes, you don't, and after today, you may not have even one left," Bob said icily.

"What do you plan to do with us," Jose stammered, trembling with fear.

"All in good time. We are waiting for your accomplices, Charles and Adara. We will get started as soon as they arrive."

"Please leave them alone, Bob. They are kids," Arjun pleaded.

"No, they are not," Francis spoke up. "They hacked into our systems, and transferred all the money from our accounts. They are not kids by any stretch of imagination."

"Oh, really?" Arjun was visibly happy to hear that.

"It is too early to celebrate, Arjun. We will set it right shortly," Bob said angrily. He then turned to Francis and said, "Now, it is time to take care of your devious brother."

To Jose's horror, Francis responded by pulling the trigger, and before Arjun understood what was happening, Ilahi moaned, slumped, and went still in a pool of blood. A loud scream followed from Jose, but it was engulfed by a thundering noise from above. Astounded, Bob and his compatriots ran up the stairs, leaving the room open. Arjun and Jose quickly checked on Ilahi, and learned to their utter dismay that he was dead. Heavy hearted, they stepped out of the room and slowly made their way up the stairs.

##  ___Chapter 80_

The Sikorsky S76D, arguably the best utility chopper, hovered close to the ground, as the Mumbai police led by Shivaji and Helen, swiftly filed out of the bird. Unable to believe what was happening, Bob watched open mouthed, as the police took out his armed men in short succession. It took him almost a minute to come to his senses, and order Francis to get the yacht moving. Miraculously escaping the gun fire around him, Francis broke into the captain's cabin, and conveyed the message.

The police were under strict instructions to stay away from Bob, and though he was a sitting duck, no bullet was fired in his direction. By virtue of standing by his side, Pido was also spared. However, everything changed when Pido shot Shivaji. After double tapping Pido in his head with deadly precision, Helen ran towards the yacht, and yelled. "Atre, take the helicopter and get Sir to the hospital immediately. Leave the operation to me." Atre tried to say something, but thought better of it, and hurried to Shivaji's aid.

Thankfully for her, Helen's team was quick to understand her plan, and covered her as she reached the pier that led to the yacht. Helen was half way through when the yacht lunged forward, pitching and rolling . Despite the boost Helen gave to her speed, the yacht moved away, far from her reach. "Bob, stop the yacht. Or I will shoot," she warned, aiming the gun at him. At that moment, Arjun and Jose stepped onto the deck, just in time for Bob's benefit. Bob swiftly moved to his side and grabbed Arjun, and drove his gun into Arjun's neck.

"Please shoot, madam. I want to see you at it," he taunted, slowly moving to the door. Struggling to hold his ground on the unstable surface, Jose merely watched the drama unfold, terrified.

##  ___Chapter 81_

"Bob, killing me will not help you. If anything it will only trouble you further," Arjun said loudly. "Really? How?"

"As I mentioned on the phone, my death will trigger the disbursement of evidence against you, and your boss, to several institutions, including the media. You may be able to abscond, but even if the police don't, your boss will eventually catch you. He will know what you did, and will ensure you pay."

Bob stayed quiet for a while. He knew his boss well enough to predict his behavior, and understand the element of truth in Arjun's words. Helen watched them carefully, gun in position for an opportunity, while Bob thought about his options, and the yacht slowly picked speed. Painfully aware that the vessel was going out of range Helen thought hard about any possibility of stopping it.

"What do you want," Bob finally broke his silence.

"Money, and an important role in the Copyleft Foundation. Those will be my ladders to success." "Done. No problem at all," Bob said, and relaxed his grip on Arjun.

That was a costly mistake, and Bob paid heavily for it. Arjun swiftly crashed his elbow into Bob's ribs, and twisted his gun bearing hand, until it fell off. Helen watched in awe, as Arjun tackled Bob to the floor, and pinned him down, while Jose picked the gun, and trained it on Bob, in what seemed like a martial art posture.

As the drama unfolded, the door of the captain's cabin opened, and Francis cautiously peered out. He realized that he was at a safe distance from shore, and he gingerly made his way towards the rear. When he was behind Jose's back, he silently raised his gun, and pulled the trigger.

##  ___Chapter 82_

From her vantage point, on the edge of the unstable, boarding platform, Helen saw Francis's head appear through the cabin door and inspect the surroundings. The sly smile on his face was unmistakable, and Helen instantly knew that Arjun and Jose were in trouble. She tried calling out, but the wind swallowed her voice, and the effort went in vain.

Helen instinctively fired a few shots, but managed to reach only as far as the heaving hull of the yacht. The vessel was just out of range of her gun, and was quickly bouncing away on the waves. One of her subordinates noticed her frustration and remarked, "Madam, the coast guard is on its way. They will not get too far."

But Helen did not hear a thing. Concentrating on the yacht, she swiftly took a few steps backward, sprinted up the peer, and jumped off the platform, firing when she was air borne. Her team watched in wonder as she flew like a bird, spat bullets like a dragon, hit the water like a dolphin, and surfaced like a whale.

No one filmed the scene, but if played in slow motion, they would have noticed the bullets leaving her gun when she was at the peak of her ascent. Despite the advanced technology at hand, only a lucky videographer, poised in mid air, would have been able to catch the slight narrowing of her eyes at the trigger-squeezing instant. However, any person with ordinary skill in shooting videos, would have hungrily captured the shell shocked faces of Helen's team members as they witnessed Francis jerking and falling backwards, shooting wildly until his body went limp, and bouncing over the railing, into the sea.

Despite Helen's heroics, Francis managed to hit one human target, creating cacophony on the deck of the yacht. Jose dropped down on the deck and cried like a baby, holding his bleeding ear, totally unaware of his close shave with death. 

##  ___Chapter 83_

It took half an hour, but the coast guard finally caught up with the yacht, and forced it to turn around. When the vessel anchored at the peer, Helen went aboard with her team. First, they took Bob and everyone left in his crew into custody, and ushered them into a police van, which arrived at the spot just in time. Owing to the wind, Helen's clothes were dry to a large extent, but her boots were still slippery, and she walked cautiously on the wet deck.

While one of the policemen attended to Jose's ear, Helen exchanged notes with Arjun. "Thanks a lot Arjun. If not for your ingenious entrapment plan, we would not have been able to nab Bob."

"We are the ones who need to thank you, madam. One of your men just told me how you saved our lives. I am grateful to you for that." Helen smiled and was about to respond, when Ilahi's body was brought out, and the smile instantly faded from her face.

"Ilahi?" That was all she managed to utter, gazing at the lifeless figure, carefully placed on the deck by the police men.

"We met him in the basement. He was shot by Francis, his own brother," Arjun said, but Helen did not respond. She simply stood still, gazing at Ilahi's innocent face. The image of the young man pleading for an opportunity to support his family, flashed before her eyes, and she felt responsible for his fate. As the men gently placed the corpse in a body bag, and zipped it, Helen silently vowed to Ilahi that she would make his death count, against all odds.

After an uncomfortable moment, Helen said, "Arjun, would you mind taking a seat in my car while I quickly inspect the yacht?"

"No problem, madam. I will wait here. Please carry on with your duty."

"Thank you."

With the aid of two officers, Helen inspected the vessel inch by inch for any information about the piracy mafia. Though the three computers on board were physically destroyed by someone, the hard disks were untouched. Along with the hard disks, Helen picked several documents, compact discs, and other storage media, which she felt might prove to be useful. Once the job was finished, Helen sent the materials to her office, and went with Arjun and Jose to the hospital.

##  ___Chapter 84_

As Helen ambled through the corridor towards Shivaji's room, tears rolled down her cheeks. Arjun and Jose were at the emergency, getting Jose's ear stitched, and she was alone. When she reached the room, Helen waited outside to get a hold on herself, while the constable standing guard watched her quizzically. The feelings she experienced, a mixture of affection, fear and anxiety, were strange to her, and she fought hard to drive away the growing realization of her fondness for Shivaji.

After 10 long, emotional minutes, Helen wiped away the tears from her face, and opened the door cautiously. "Hello champion. Welcome," Shivaji said, saluting, and smiling broadly.

"How are you doing, sir," she asked softly, walking to his bedside.

"I am fine. That was just a small scratch to my hand." His hand was heavily bandaged, and looked ominous, but Shivaji showed no concern.

Helen gazed through her misty eyes and asked, "Is it painful, sir?"

"Not really. I don't feel a thing. How would I after the extra topping of anesthesia," he said, grinning. Attempting to smile, but utterly failing, Helen looked away, while a tear made its way out of her right eye. "Are you alright," Shivaji asked, concerned.

"I am absolutely fine, sir," she replied, avoiding eye contact.

Shivaji broke the short spell of silence that fell on them and said, "Helen, tell me all about your act. I want to re-live the moment."

"Sir, if not for your training on the horse, I would not have attempted a stunt like this. Thanks a lot."

"Don't be hard on yourself. Now, tell me the entire story without leaving anything out."

Helen told him, and Shivaji heard with great interest, soliciting several details on the way. "Sir, it was entirely Arjun's operation. He planned it, took the risk, and nabbed Bob. If not for him and the students, we would not have succeeded in cracking this," Helen declared when she was done.

"I know that. Are Charles and Adara still at your place?"

"Yes, sir. They are not very pleased with it, but they are still at my quarters, safe and sound, concealed away from Bob's goons."

"That's good. What plans do you have for Bob?"

"Well, sir," Helen hesitated, "Atre's team will be working on him today and tomorrow. Once they have a crack at him, I will step in for the soft part of the interrogation."

"Do you have enough to get him to talk?"

"Yes, sir, I do. Lamba and Arjun have given me more than I can devour."

"Do let me know if you need my assistance."

"Certainly, sir. You take care of yourself.

##  ___Chapter 85_

At about 2 a.m., a dark complexioned, short, fat policeman, wearing a black jacket, purposefully walked towards the police house at Chatrapati Shivaji Maharaj Marg, where Bob was kept under custody. Under normal circumstances, Deputy Commissioner of Police Mane would avoid venturing out late in the night, but these were no ordinary circumstances, and he was not on normal duty. Though he carried out similar jobs earlier, Mane's heart was pounding against his rib cage like never before, and he continuously talked to himself. "The task is a cake walk. Just walk in, and walk out. Walk in, Walk out ...

When he reached the house, Mane wore his gloves, pulled out his silenced, automatic pistol, and stepped in as quietly as he could. At the door, a sleepy voice crackled from the speaker. "Who is it?" "DCP here. Open up," Mane authoritatively instructed. After some fiddling, the lock turned, and a young, heavy-eyed constable came into picture. Before the constable realized what was happening, Mane sent two well placed rounds into his head, toppling him backwards.

Stepping on the body, Mane swiftly strode through the hallway that led to the drawing room. "Walk in, Walk out," he kept repeating as he stepped into the dimly lit, expansive room. There, he shot the two confused policemen who had just woken up to the thud at the door, and quietly proceeded to the basement. The plan was to eliminate everyone in the building, leaving no trace whatsoever of his involvement. As he got off the last stair and turned left towards the interrogation rooms, Mane wished for the operation to end as smoothly as it began.

Only one of the rooms was illuminated, and Mane did not have to work hard to find Bob's location. However, what Mane saw in the room was totally unexpected, and he was perplexed to the hilt. Contrary to his expectation, Bob was not battered. Instead, he sat on a cozy chair, and though his hands were cuffed to its arms, he appeared to be at peace with himself. When he saw Mane entering the room, Bob's eyes emanated excitement, and he could barely contain his happiness.

"Hello, Mane. I can't tell you how glad I am to see you. I had a feeling that you guys abandoned me," he complained.

"How can we leave an important person like you? I am here to take care of everything," Mane replied, slowly pulling out his gun, and pointing it at Bob's head. That turned the elation on Bob's face to trepidation, and he shook his head in disbelief, as he understood his boss's plan for him. The fearful expression on Bob's face gave great pleasure to Mane, and he took his time to pull the trigger.

Unfortunately, that merciless cruelty proved costly, very costly, for Mane. A heavy baton struck him hard on his head before he could shoot Bob and knocked him to the floor. When Mane fell, Atre's fuming face came into Bob's line of vision, and he for the first time in his life, felt grateful to a policeman.

"This asshole killed all my men," Atre yelled angrily, kicking Mane with absolute abhorrence, again and again.

##  ___Chapter 86_

By the time Helen arrived, the deceased policemen were taken away by medics, and the house, heavily reinforced. Seeing Atre's contorted face, portraying a mixture of grief and anger, Helen lost her cool.

"Atre Saab, I promise, we will get to the bottom of this," she swore, gazing into his bloodshot eyes. Breathing heavily, Atre said, "They were the best in my group, madam, extremely capable and absolutely dedicated. They don't make this kind of men these days. Two of them have very young children." As he spoke, his voice wavered, and trailed off into a whisper.

Few minutes later, when Helen and Atre entered the interrogation room, Bob was savoring his coffee. "Good morning, Bob. I heard about the incident yesterday. Are you fine," Helen asked and sat down, while Atre stood with his baton on the ready. Helen always started the interrogation with a casual conversation to make the subject comfortable, an opening move followed by many expert interrogators. Like most criminals, Bob was guarded, and did not respond to her question. He placed his half-empty coffee cup on the table, and looked at her warily.

"You seem quite relaxed for a person who was in the clutches of death a few hours back." Once again, Bob did not speak, he just sat still.

Being an expert at playing with minds of her subjects, Helen quickly transitioned to the next level. " Bob, you don't seem to be taking this seriously. Let us get a few things on the floor before we get started. By now, you know very well what your team has in store for you if you are out there in the open, without any support. You also know by now that we can save your life, and may even find you a safe harbor. But for us to help you, you must cooperate. You will get only one chance. If you do not wish to take it, we will make the offer to your friend Mane, and of course, leave you here with minimal and compromised security." Once she made her statement, a threat and an indication that they were not completely reliant on him, Helen sat back, and waited.

Bob mulled over his options for a long while and finally said, "Yes, Ms. Helen, I understand, and I will cooperate. At this age, I have no intent of being subject to any physical treatment."

"That is good, Bob. You made the right decision. Please be aware that we now know a lot about your business, and if you lie even once, we will, without any hesitation, hand you over to the sharks. Because of you, we lost some of our best men, and my team is looking for an opportunity for payback. I hope you will not give them a chance."

"Don't worry, madam, it won't go that far," Bob mumbled, holding the arms of his chair to bring his trembling hands under control. Giving Bob his time, Helen took a while to pull out the notepad and digital voice recorder. Then, nodding at Bob, she pressed the record button, and started the interrogation. "Could you give me some background about yourself," she asked her first standard, innocuous question. Though Bob was surprised with the query, which sounded like a starter for a job interview, he did not show it, and played along.

"My name is Robert Raja Norris. I was born in Kerala and grew up in Patna, I worked as a copyright attorney at a top law firm, Brain League, for more than 30 years."

"Is that where you developed your links with the world of entertainment and entered the piracy racket?"

"Yes, Ms. Helen. That was where it all began." The story that Bob narrated thereafter was intriguing, and quite fascinating for Helen. The man transitioned from representing copyright owners to working for pirates, just a few months before assuming the top position in the Copyleft Foundation. Once he was at the top, he plugged into all the piracy networks in the country, before taking control over them, some by coercion, and others by collaboration.

"Tell me, step by step, what all networks you control, and how did you manage to gain command over them," Helen asked, uncapping her pen.

##  ___Chapter 87_

Bob hesitated, but one glance at Atre's stern, expectant face, helped him make up his mind.

"This business of piracy is the result of hard work, grit, and extraordinary intelligence. First, I figured we needed to find an entity that masked our activities, and Copyleft Foundation, with its anti-copyright goals, fit the bill perfectly. Once the organization was identified, we bought everyone over, except Chandra Sagar, who was too much of an idealist. No mode of persuasion, ethos, pathos, or logos, worked with him, and so, the boss had no choice but to get rid of him."

"Did you guys kill him? Our records indicate that he went missing on KingFish, the celebrity ship," "Yes, Ms. Helen, he was tortured and killed. But I played no role in it, it was completely the boss's doing," Bob said, in a guarded tone. Helen did not believe Bob, but in the interests of continuing his narration, she decided against probing into it.

"Go on Bob," she said, waving her hand in a gesture of encouragement.

"Then, I took over Chandra Sagar's role as the president of the foundation, and brought structure into the business," Bob stated proudly. "Once the foundation was completely in our hands, the second step was to consolidate and re-organize the piracy network. It was then an unorganized business, largely run by local goons, and it took us several months to bring them into the fold of our structure. Using various means from violence to influence, my team was able to convert the business of piracy into a well organized and highly structured one. Today, our hierarchy simulates that of administrative organs of the government, without of course, its pitfalls."

"Hmm, interesting. Can you draw your hierarchy for me," Helen asked, passing to him her pencil and paper. Bob reveled in his accomplishments and was now enthusiastic and eager to share his achievements.

"Of course," he said, getting to work on the sheet. A few minutes later, when Bob's chart came into view, Helen noted that the structure was very similar to what she made on her board, and found it hard to suppress a smile. At the top was the boss, under him the head of Copyleft Foundation, to whom heads of North and East, and South and West India reported, under whom were state, region, city, area, and neighborhood heads. As expected, Bob informed her that the money was collected, and passed on in the chain, all the way to the boss. But what was surprising to Helen was the fact that each one in the hierarchy was paid a salary, and a handsome incentive based on collection volumes.

When Bob was finished with his elaboration of the corporate like compensation structure, Helen asked, "What kind of money are you looking at every year?"

"Last financial year, we made a revenue of about 10,000 crores, the highest so far by any single organization of this kind in the world. You must realize, Ms. Helen, it was my exceptional management skills that made this possible," Bob flaunted. Though there was talk about that kind of a number, Helen never took it seriously and was now shocked altogether.

Bob noticed Helen's expression and said, "Ms. Helen, I am not kidding. You might find it difficult to believe, but these numbers are real. We get this money from several modes of distribution such as physical sales, digital exploitation, online downloads, advertising, and so on. If not for me, these guys would have been limited to sales on the streets alone. We get about 50 percent revenues from just online piracy," Bob disclosed, gleaming with pride.

Playing along, Helen said, " Bob, you are a great business man. Not only have you organized and cracked the business of piracy, but also managed to retain control over it for a long time. To whom do all the profits go?"

Bob responded instantly. He said, "It goes to Swiss bank accounts of the boss. I get a salary, and incentives based on my performance."

"You are undeniably a top performer. How much have you earned so far, and where do you keep your money?"

Now, Bob did not answer; he sat motionless, staring blankly. Helen repeated the question, while Atre took a step forward with his baton raised.

"You don't have to do that. I will tell you. I earned about 1000 crores so far. Part of the money was tucked away in several of my bank accounts, but now most of my accounts are empty. Those stupid students of IITB did this to me. After all the effort, I am left with nothing. Can you help me get my money back?" Bob asked expectantly.

Helen was not listening, she was certain that the old man had either lost his mind, or was toying with her. "1000 crores," she wondered, astonished, but none of it reflecting on her face. Scribbling a note to follow up on this later, she asked, "Are you in any way linked with the deaths of Shan, Khan, Viren, and the other lawyers?"

"No Ms. Helen, I am not," Bob responded quickly, too quickly to her liking. He noticed that Helen eyed him suspiciously and added, "My boss is responsible for their deaths. They were coming in the way of our business, and we had no choice, but to get rid of them."

"OK. I am listening."

"Shan, Khan, and Viren, all three of them betrayed us. They broke the piracy rights deal with our boss."

This was unchartered territory, and it immediately caught Helen's interest. "What deal are you talking about? And who the hell is behind all this?" Bob did not answer. He just shut his eyes and leaned back.

## Chapter 88

##

Despite aggressive persuasion tactics, Bob did not budge. He just gazed vacantly as if Helen's words meant nothing to him. Atre attempted to wield his baton, but Helen stopped him. Gazing benevolently at Bob, Helen said, "Bob, I can understand your fear. But trust me, you are under no less danger now. I will give you a few minutes while I have a quick chat with your friend Mane, who is in a particularly friendly mood today."

Mane sat in a dark room just 10 meters away from Bob and tried for the nth time to break free from the shackles. Following what seemed like a never-ending thrashing by Atre, Mane was bound to a concrete chair, and forsaken for a long time. He screamed for a bathroom break and water, several times, but no one had come to his rescue. Unable to bear his own stink, and completely dehydrated, Mane sat there cursing his fate, hapless and despondent.

Suddenly, the bright lights in his room came on, initially blurring his vision, before his eyes adjusted, and the picture of Helen, hand on her nose, and Atre, a club in hand, materialized at the door. "Hello, sir. How are you doing," Helen asked politely.

"You bitch, don't play games with me. Let me go," Mane yelled, trying once again to break free.

"Shut up," Atre screamed, hitting him hard on the head. That silenced Mane, but only for a short while, after which he started abusing again. Atre was about to repeat the act when Helen stalled him and said, "We know all about the Copyleft Foundation, piracy rights, and your boss. This behavior will not help you. Mr. Mane, What will help is your co-operation."

"Did you say that you know about piracy rights? Did that bastard Bob spill the beans?" Helen did not speak, she just nodded, smiling. From Bob's fearful reference to piracy rights, and Mane's aggressive response, Helen understood that the piracy rights, whatever they meant, most certainly formed an important element of the piracy business.

"That idiot never knew what to speak when. I always knew that he was our weak link, and one day would ensure our downfall."

"Mr. Mane, there is no point in crying over spilt milk. Are you willing to help us? If you are willing to help us, we can strike a deal."

"Is that so? What is your deal? My decision to co-operate will depend on what you have to offer." Despite his predicament, the man was bargaining, and Helen did not have to think much to understand that her chances of getting him to talk were slim.

"For a start, we can protect you and probably ensure a fair trial," she responded non-commitally. Mane burst out laughing. "You will protect me? Are you saying that your buffoons will keep me safe? Is that even a deal?"

"It is your call, Mr. Mane. Take it or leave it. We don't need you either way. Now, I don't have all the time in the world. Take a few minutes to think, we will return in a while." Helen turned around, and walked out, not bothering to wait for Mane's response.

"You assholes, let me loose, get me some water," Mane yelled as Atre shut the sound proof door. 

##  ___Chapter 89_

"Give him some water. We do not want the moron to faint. I will be right back." Helen went to the conference room where Arjun, Jose, and two policemen were reviewing the documents from Bob's ship. "Anything useful from the interrogation, madam?," Jose asked as Helen entered.

"Yes, we have a lot to think about and investigate. Arjun, please listen to this audio file of the interview," Helen said handing over the recorder.

"Do we know, who is behind all this? I have a feeling that the trail does not end at Bob," Arjun asked. "You are right Arjun. I am hoping to coax the pirate boss's name out of Bob shortly."

"Did that idiot Bob offer to reveal all details?" Jose asked, excited and curious. Now, everyone in the room waited for Helen's response.

"No, he did not. But, if everything goes well, I think he will finally tell us. This strategic break is to allow him to weigh his options, and hopefully, open up." Then, Helen pulled a chair and asked Jose to play the interview recording.

Down in the basement, a young, lean constable carried a tray with two glasses, and a jug of water for Mane and Bob. Atre had not seen the man earlier, and quickly frisked him before letting him in. Under the watchful eye of Atre, the man placed a glass before Bob, who instantly emptied it. Then, he patiently helped the bound Mane drink as much water as he wanted. When his job was done, the constable respectfully saluted, and quietly walked away.

Fifteen minutes later, Atre burst into the conference room. His face was pale, and he was trembling. "Madam," he wavered, "Both, Mane and Bob are dead."

"What!" Helen exclaimed, disbelief written all over her face.

"How," Arjun asked, standing up involuntarily. The shocking news brought everyone to their feet.

"They were poisoned."

"Poisoned!!! How?"

" I think the constable served them poisoned water. Can't find him to verify. He is gone."

"Very sorry, madam. It was all my fault," Atre managed, as tears rolled down his blood shot eyes. Helen could not muster a response. She just stood still, attempting in vain to digest the bewildering news. 

##  ___Chapter 90_

A week later, Arjun and Jose strode into Terminal 1B of Mumbai's Santa Cruz Airport to fly back to Hyderabad. They had booked themselves on an Indigo flight, which offered the best assistance for visually disabled passengers, and were ushered through a special queue. After picking up their boarding passes, they unhurriedly walked towards the security check point. Jose quietly guided a silent Arjun whose mind was completely occupied with the piracy case.

Arjun and Jose stood by Helen and Shivaji until the storm from the custodial deaths abated, and had to bid goodbye with a heavy heart. At the security point, the guard asked, "What is his problem? He looks fine to me."

"Sir, once in a while he acts blind. Today is one of those days." The contorted expression on the guard's face gave great pleasure to Jose, and he laughed aloud. As the angry guard frisked him roughly, Jose's words triggered a series of thoughts in Arjun's head.

Once Jose picked up their scanned cabin bags, Arjun took his phone, and placed a call. "Ms. Helen, I think we got our man. You can nail the bastard right away. Here is the plan ..." After he hung up, Arjun asked the shell-shocked Jose to take him to the coffee shop. Once they were seated, he pulled out his laptop and sent a short email to Helen. While they sat silently, Jose attempting to ingest the news and Arjun wondering if his plan will work, a man dressed in black formal pants and a clean, well-pressed white shirt, entered the shop, and sat at the next table. The killer was glad that he was able to catch up with his subjects after they were taken much ahead of him at the airlines counter because of the special treatment they had received. Now, they were in his grasp, and he waited for the right moment to attack.

"I swear to god, this will be their last coffee together," the killer told himself as he pulled out his needle. He was a specialist in acupuncture and killed with a tiny prick, which collapsed the subject's lungs. He had a host of points on the body to choose from, and he usually decided on the right point for the job based on mood and situation. At that moment, he shortlisted the point on Arjun's neck, and stood up to make his move.

Walking towards the counter located by Arjun's table, the killer focused on his target, and positioned the needle. He drew his wrist slightly backwards and was about to plunge it in, when Jose screamed. "Arjun, there is a fly in my coffee," Jose said, spitting coffee on the table. "How dare you do this to me? You idiotic, creepy waiter," Jose lurched onto the killer, and grabbed his neck.

"I did not do anything," the killer attempted to break free, but Jose did not let him go.

Coming to the killer's rescue, the manager of the coffee shop said, "Sir, He is a customer, not a waiter. Please let him go." After some hesitation, Jose let him loose, and the killer immediately retreated, grateful for the reprieve.

"Are you in charge here," Jose was about to wade into the man, when Arjun got hold of him and said, "Jose, take it easy. It is alright. We will deal with it."

"But Arjun, there was a fly in my coffee. These idiots charged Rs 120 for the damned thing."

"Sir, we will refund the money, and give you 10 free coffee coupons. Please forgive us," the manager pleaded, noticing that a crowd was building.

"OK, give me 20 coupons," Jose said, sealing the deal. The manager obliged, and Jose was absolutely proud of himself.

An hour later, when they were on their way to board the plane, Arjun asked, "How is it that you did not spot the fly before you drank the coffee?"

"The guy gave me the coffee cup with a cap and a straw, and I did not bother to open and check. I realized there was a fly only when I opened the cap to drink what was not retrievable through the straw." "Oh."

##  ___Chapter 91_

"Get ready," Shivaji spoke into his microphone as soon as the milky white building came into view. His stern voice showed no sign of the bullet wound sustained by him during Bob's capture. The handpicked team of specially trained policemen in the two cars and the van that followed them picked up their gear and sat alert while their vehicles took their turn into the carved road, towards Raj Khanna's lavish house among the rocks.

Constructed in an Italian style, the eight-storey building sat on a rocky mound in Worli, adjoining the sea. Six well-trained security guards, bullet-proof glass, and state-of-the-art technology kept its inhabitants, Raj and his newly-wed wife, Kavya Saran, safe from external threats.

"Whatever said and done, the man has taste," Shivaji said, appreciating the picturesque view of the house in the backdrop of Arabian Sea.

"Yes, sir. I heard that he hired the best in the business, and that most of the materials were imported," Helen remarked, enjoying the view.

"Yes Helen, considering what he has been doing, he could afford to do anything. If it were a possibility, he would have brought in Leonardo da Vinci to do the job."

When their car reached the large metal gate, two tall, heavily-armed guards walked towards them. "How can we help you," one of the guards asked eyeing Helen, while the other inspected the entourage. "We are here for Mr. Khanna. Please open the door," Helen requested.

"I am sorry, madam, but you don't have an appointment."

"And we don't need one. You open the gate," Shivaji shouted, giving the signal to his team. Taken aback by Shivaji's reaction, the man was about to pull out his hand phone, when Atre and his team burst out of the van, with their guns drawn.

At gun point, the guards had no choice but to comply. As the heavy door creaked open, and the cars rolled in, Atre's team quickly secured the perimeter of the house, putting the rest of the guards out of action. To Helen's surprise, the front door was wide open, and they had no trouble getting into the house. Inside, as per Shivaji's directions, the team split into three groups, and started a methodical search of the luxurious house. Finding the ground floor empty, Helen attempted to use the elevator, but the voice-based security system did not let them in.

Taking the stairs, they carefully searched every part of the house until the top floor, and were disappointed to find nothing. During the search, some of the officers could not help but linger a little longer to appreciate the state of the art gym, temperature-controlled swimming pool, plush bedrooms, dance theatre, and the ornate party room. At the seventh floor, instructing the officers to stay back, Shivaji and Helen climbed the narrow stair case to the glass house.

Ignoring the breathtaking view through the clean, transparent glass, they swiftly spanned out in opposite directions, and swept the area. In under a minute, they concluded that the place was empty, and turned their attention to a closed door on the opaque side of the glass house. Taking their time, they noiselessly made it to the door, burst through it onto the terrace, and looked around.

What they saw took them by surprise. Right next to the helipad, sitting on the coffee table was a piece of paper, which said in deep red, "Traitors. All of you."

"Who?" Helen and Shivaji said at the same time, looking at each other.

##  ___Chapter 92_

Arjun and Jose sat in the last row of the flight, in seats designated for disabled passengers, not a convenient location for the killer. He was seated at a window seat, in the 10th row, about 16 rows away, and had to strain hard to observe his subject. As soon as the flight took off, the killer stood up, opened the overhead compartment for his bag, and took a peek at Arjun. Studying the environment, and quickly concocting a plan, he sat down and prepared for the hit.

Half an hour later, when the killer was ready to go, Arjun and Jose were having an animated discussion. Seeing him approach, Jose smiled and waved. The killer returned the greeting using his left hand. His right hand held the needle. Passing their seats, the killer waited at the rest room. "I swear this will be your last flight together. Have fun until I return from the restroom and push this needle in," the killer was mumbling, when the door opened.

A fat lady, who seemed to occupy the entire door space, walked out from the rest room, shoved him to the wall, and scampered to her seat. Sandwiched between the lady and the wall, the killer was breathless for a few painful seconds, and wondered if those were his last moments. When she passed, he took a few long breaths, and checked if everything was OK. His body was intact, but his needle was broken. Furious, he rushed into the rest room to get a hold of himself. On the way back to his seat, smiling once again, the killer vowed that he would finish the job as soon as the flight landed.

An hour later, the killer watched Arjun and Jose pick up their bags from the luggage belt and followed them out of the airport. This time, he planned to get Arjun on the escalator. After a bit of contemplation, he narrowed down on Arjun's shoulder as the point of attack. As he tailed them out of the airport building, his phone buzzed. It was a message. "Now or later. Later," he decided.

Arjun and Jose got on the first escalator and the killer was three steps behind them. Positioning his needle, he focused on the point. "This will be your last escalator ride together," he said in his head, smiling. When it was time, he took a final step towards Arjun, jabbed the needle into his unprotected shoulder, and waited for the collapse.

Getting off the first escalator, Arjun and Jose slowly walked towards the second one. As soon as he stepped on the second escalator, Arjun lost balance and fell backwards. Smiling, the killer mouthed,, "I told you. This will be your last escalator ride." But his smile vanished as fast as it appeared, when he saw Arjun steady himself and stand straight, while the moving stairs took him downwards.

When they got off the escalator, Jose spotted the needle and said, "Where did this come from," pulling it out. The needle had gone only as far as Arjun's thick vest, and had barely scraped his skin. Angered with his failure, the killer was about to run down the stairs to take another shot at Arjun, when his phone buzzed again. The message said, "Hold. No Go." Cursing his handler, the killer turned around, and went back to the airport, in search of a flight to Mumbai.

##  ___Chapter 93_

When Helen and Shivaji walked out of the house, Atre was in an unusually happy mood. "Madam, we found a concealed basement under the garage," he said, waving the WI-VI device in his hand. The Mumbai police was the first enforcement agency to acquire the MIT-developed WI-VI devices, which use WI-FI technology to see through walls. Despite the criticism against acquiring an untested technology, the sleek, portable device had proved to be very useful for the police in rescue operations, and was proving to be worthwhile once again.

Using the device, Atre and his team had spotted movement under the garage, and managed to uncover a basement, accessible through a hidden door. Then, they broke into the basement and apprehended two of Raj's men who were hiding there. Stepping out of the narrow staircase into the expansive basement, which, with its cubicles and computers looked like a software company, Helen could not help wondering what Raj was using the place for. The confirmation came soon, when Shivaji opened a large glass door, which led into a huge conference hall that housed modern communication technology and monitoring/tracking devices. "This looks like a command centre."

"Yes, sir, it sure does," Helen said switching on a screen.

What showed on the screen shocked them. "Am I seeing what I think I am seeing?"

"Yes, sir. This guy has plugged into all our CCTVs on the streets. He can monitor the streets from the comforts of his home"

"How big a team do you think he has?"

"Sir, I can only guess. Look at these tracking devices. They allow him to track anything, or rather anybody, by merely tagging them."

"I can't believe this, Helen. Even some of the leading corporates are not so sophisticated," Shivaji said, looking around.

Helen did not respond to his comment. A vault behind a huge painting of Raj caught her attention. Putting the painting away, she studied the not-so-carefully concealed vault embedded in the wall. Then, she pulled out her gun, and shot the lock. The lock did not budge, and the bullet boomeranged, requiring them to take quick, evasive action.

"That is not the way," Shivaji said, stepping forward. He pulled out his pen knife, and got to work on the vault. It took 15 anxious minutes, but the lock finally gave way.

Inside the vault was a treasure trove of documents containing details of the piracy mafia, pirate business operations, and piracy rights agreements. As Helen carefully stacked piles of documents on the conference table, Shivaji said, "Why would Raj keep such valuable documents in an open conference room like this? It does not make sense to me."

"Sir, the guy is overconfident. I don't think he expected to be caught. Besides, this is a hidden basement, unknown to the world outside."

"OK ...," Shivaji said, not totally convinced with Helen's explanation.

Following a thorough search, Shivaji and Helen sealed the location and moved the evidence they had gathered to police headquarters. Despite the late hour, Helen did not go home. She updated Arjun about their find, thanked him, and promised to keep him posted. Then, she sat down at her desk, and buried herself in the evidence.

The documents, compact discs and other storage devices found in the basement proved to be extremely useful. They told the full story of piracy from pirate hierarchy to piracy rights. Wondering time and again, how Arjun was able to understand so much without the aid of the data, and how he could narrow down on Raj, Helen made extensive notes, and organized the data for further action. The evidence had thrown open a Pandora's Box, and Helen knew that the road ahead was not going to be easy. Cleaning up piracy meant going after several film stars, producers, politicians, police officers, and many other celebrities.

##  ___Chapter 94_

Next morning, Helen was sipping on a cup of black coffee when Shivaji walked in. "So, you finally cracked the pirate organization structure," he said, studying the board showing a detailed hierarchy, with Raj's name on the top.

"Yes, sir, we have the hierarchy and also a lot of information about the pirate mafia. Many public figures are involved in this racket. I have listed some names," Helen said, pointing at the bottom of the board.

"I see them Helen. After Raj, nothing surprises me anymore."

"I know, sir."

"Sit down, Helen. Tell me once again about these piracy rights. What are they and how do they actually work?"

Smiling triumphantly, Helen started. "Piracy rights are exclusive rights to deal with infringing copies of music, and movies. In other words, these are rights given by the owner of films, and/or music, to a person, allowing them to sell and deal with pirated versions of their content."

"Really? Why would a producer give such rights? Isn't this counterproductive to the producer's interests?"

"Yes, on the face of it, the scheme surely seems contradictory. But over the years, the producers, actors and other stakeholders have built a model around piracy to suit their interests. If you look into it, it is a perfect, win-win business proposition for all of them."

"How so?"

"Sir, as you are aware, there is lot of money in piracy, online and offline. It amounts to thousands of crores. Portions of the right to make money from piracy is given away by producers as compensation for acting, to actors, making music, to music directors, singing, to singers, and so on. An elaborate system has been designed by Raj and his predecessors to enable the holders of piracy rights to make money through piracy. As a part of the bargain, the producers will not take any action against them. In fact, they will take action against all others, except piracy right holders. As you know, a copyright owner has the choice to decide whether he wants to enforce rights or not, and against whom he wishes to file cases."

Struggling to digest the story, Shivaji said, "This sounds logical, but not believable. These piracy rights are not legitimate by any stretch of imagination. Tell me, Helen, how would the holders of these rights possibly assert them, and prevent others from exercising them?"

Grinning, Helen said, "Sir, these guys are smart, very smart, and crooked. They have thought about everything. They have tapped into every piracy network, and gained control over 70 percent of people in the field. Anyone who blocks their path is persuaded to join them or subdued through violence. If this does not work, they ask the producers to initiate legal proceedings against pirates outside their circle. All potential problem creators, ranging from police to politicians, are stakeholders in this business. They get handsome pay packages from the piracy rights holders, and any troublemakers are mercilessly eliminated.

"In short, they use persuasion, coercion, and legal action to keep their business going. It is a perfect example of an extremely well planned and executed business. Only problem is that it is illegal."

Shivaji took a long time to assimilate Helen's exposition. He did not utter a word, but the expression on his face told Helen that the wheels in his brain were moving very slowly. After a long spell of silence, he finally said, "So, Raj being the big star takes piracy rights as one form of compensation, and is a big beneficiary of the business. By virtue of his stature and stake, he was a natural choice to lead the business."

"Yes Sir. With his stardom, Raj inherited the business. But unlike his predecessors, Raj was a very ambitious and greedy man. He cleverly used the Copyleft Foundation as a front to expand the piracy business, and did not hesitate to kill, to make more money for himself."

"Have you anything to corroborate this?"

"Yes Sir. We have loads of documentary evidence. Also, Lamba has confirmed most of the facts and is willing to testify in court. So are the youngsters Charles and Adara, who broke into the financial transactions of Copyleft Foundation."

"Excellent. What next?"

"Sir, our team is gearing up to go after these names. We have concrete evidence against all of them," Helen said, pointing to the list on the board. "Once that is done, we will go after Raj."

"Great. Let us get the bastard."

Two days later, Helen's team took off at 5 a.m., and made a dozen arrests before breakfast. That included six film stars, four producers, and two ministers in the Maharashtra government. These arrests were made on Saturday morning, in the hope that the detainees would be kept in jail at least for two days. The media carried adulatory stories about Helen's heroics, but no one mentioned Arjun and Jose.

##  ___Chapter 95_

"You kept me waiting for too long. You have to tell me the rest of the story now," Shreya ordered, handing Arjun his shot of Amarula and sitting by his side. Neo barked in agreement, and settled down next to them. Enjoying the cream liqueur, Arjun said, "Let me relish the after taste of that delicious meal, Shreya. I don't think my brain will work for a while."

You don't have an option my dear. After learning about piracy rights, tell me how you figured that Raj was the boss." Shreya said, with an element of finality.

"Well," Arjun started reluctantly. "I did not know that Raj was running the show. Just made an informed inference and it turned out to be true."

"How convenient. My dear genius, you cannot get away with this explanation. Tell me step by step, how you came to the conclusion." Neo burped, stretched, and sprawled on the floor as Arjun began his story.

"Four independent data points were circling my head, and I thought hard about means to inter-connect them. I knew that they could not be mutually exclusive. Piracy rights, entertainment case histories, murders of entertainment lawyers and Shan's piracy war had to be somehow linked. Bob told us that the Copyleft Foundation was the frontend for several pirate activities, and Lamba gave us hints about problems between different Bollywood personalities on business issues. Thanks to Helen, I had access to all the information in possession of the police, including documents uncovered on Bob's yacht."

"Do you want a re-fill,," Shreya asked, noticing that Arjun's glass was empty.

"No, I am done with my drink for the day."

"Good. Go on."

"Yes, madam," he responded, tongue in cheek. "The concept of piracy rights would make business sense only if an internal person was involved from various angles such as value and ease of striking such deals, control and enforcement of the deal, and sharing of proceeds from the business. Though it is possible that the mafia and the production houses can have piracy profit sharing models, the mafia, by virtue of its brute power, would always have an upper hand in these deals. Besides, the mafia is under continuous police surveillance, which would put the producers under the scanner, like it happened earlier with Bharat Shah and other film financiers. Involving any other party, I felt, would not make sense, and so, I concluded that this was an internal affair of Bollywood."

"Hmm. Interesting."

"Now, my next step was to find out who could be behind all this. Once Jose, Charles and Adara helped me expose the Copyleft Foundation's role, and Bob's interrogation confirmed their involvement in murders of lawyers, we looked at the cases very closely. The cases told us a lot about the Copyleft Foundation, but we never looked at the films that were the subjects of these cases until the last minute. It struck me when we were at the airport on our way back to Hyderabad, thanks to Jose's comment to the guard about acting blind, that Raj was the protagonist in 90 percent of the film-related cases fought by the Foundation. Coupling this with Lamba's revelations to Helen about Shan's tiff with Raj, and the fact that Raj's films figured in many Copyleft Foundation's documents, I guessed that Raj might be the big bad guy."

"That is a terrible guess, Arjun. Raj is a super star, and it is natural for his films to have great demand for piracy and copyright infringement. Your logic of connecting piracy rights and murders to him, just because he acted in those films seems extremely convoluted to me. It is equally logical for some big producer, like Shan, to run this business and make money out of it, just like he makes money from licensing his films and music. Is it not?"

Arjun thought for a while before responding. "It is reasonable to think on those lines. But if Shan was involved, why would he start a war against piracy by putting together a producer alliance? This alliance told me that producers were not running the business. They would not fight against their own venture. Also, killing of Chandra Sagar, Viren Bhatia and other copyright lawyers who were representing producers, made me give them a clean chit. Having said that, as you rightly pointed out, Raj was only a probable along with many others, and I had nothing concrete to come to the conclusion that he was the boss."

"Oh, really? Then, why did Helen raid Raj's house?"

Arjun smiled wickedly. "We played a small game to test if he was the one. Knowing that the pirates had infiltrated the police force, we let many officers know that Bob's ship had concrete evidence against Raj, and that a flash raid was on its way. Helen told no one about our ulterior motive. As I guessed, Raj took flight, confirming my theory. To add to our fortune, we found a huge load of evidence against Raj, and many other celebrities. Thanks to the short notice, Raj did not have time to clear house before he flew."

"So in reality, my accidental genius husband just got lucky?," Shreya asked, curiosity dripping out of her wide eyes. Pulling her into a tight embrace and planting a strong kiss on her lips, he whispered, "Yes my dear. I got very very lucky. And, I am madly in love with you."

##  ___Chapter 96_

One Year Later

Showing his Spanish passport at the counter, Daniel Mateo walked unhurriedly towards his boarding gate. He involuntarily smiled when he saw the Airline's caption, "Where will tomorrow take you?" "To my mistress in Dubai. Away from my adulterous wife in Paris," he mumbled as he stepped into his private suite of the luxurious Emirates aircraft.

Dumping his boarding pass and passport on the desk, Mateo turned around to slide the door shut, but could not get himself beyond a few inches. Glaring at him was a gorgeous, glamorous woman, beauty and anger written all over her face.

"This is my cabin. What the hell are you doing here," she asked, pursing her glossy lips.

"Oh my god. You got to take her down," a voice screamed in Mateo's head. Suppressing his urge, Mateo smiled, and said, "Madam, please come in. We will figure this out as soon as those gentlemen pass."

Hesitating for just a moment, she stepped into the cabin, allowing the waiting passengers to pass by. Now, Mateo could smell her tantalizing scent and had to work very hard to keep his hands off her. "Madam, my boarding pass says F1, and this is F1," he said, showing her the boarding card.

The woman looked ready to scream, when a polite voice asked, "Madam, may I help you?" The owner of the voice was a smiling flight attendant, dressed in a neat beige skirt and white shirt. Turning around, the woman yelled, "Yes, you can help me by throwing this man out of my cabin."

"This is my suite," Mateo protested, but the woman was in no mood to listen.

Quickly reviewing her guest list, the flight attendant respectfully asked, "Madam, are you Ms. Lewa Wilde?" "Yes, that is I."

"Madam, your cabin is F11 over here and not this one," the attendant said, pointing to the opposite cabin. "Oh." Lewa's features softened instantly, and she apologetically mumbled , "I am very sorry, Mr. ..." "No problem at all. I am Mateo. Friends call me Mat," Mateo introduced himself, extending his hand. "Thank you, Mat. Do you want to join me for a drink?"

"Of course. It would be my pleasure," he said, squeezing her hand.

"Great. Come over to my cabin as soon as the flight takes off."

After Lewa left, Mateo took a look at his face in the mirror and smiled triumphantly. The new look was working very well for him on the ladies front, and Lewa's invite was another confirmation. When they were airborne, Mateo knocked lightly on Lewa's door.

"Come in Mat."

Inside the cabin, Lewa led him to the couch, handed him a glass of scotch, and sat by his side. By the time they landed in Dubai, two bottles were down, and Mateo could not stop kissing Lewa. "Oh my god, I want you. Can we take this someplace else?," he asked, holding her tight.

"Exactly my thoughts. Come with me," she said, gently pushing him away. High on testosterone and alcohol, Mateo blindly followed her out of the airport, into a luxury car. When the car started moving, a pungent cloth was pressed to his nose, and everything went blank.

When Mateo woke up, he found himself face to face with Helen and Shivaji. "Welcome to India, Raj. Did you have a good flight?" Shivaji asked, grinning.

"How did you manage this?"

"You will learn that soon enough," Helen responded.

"Untie me, and get me my lawyers," Raj demanded. Slapping him hard, Shivaji said, "There will be no lawyers, no courts, no rights for you. This is between you and us. Between Mateo and Mumbai Police. On paper, Raj is long gone."

Then, leaving Raj to Atre and his boys, who were longing to have a go at him, Shivaji and Helen went for a drive. After all they had gone through, they really needed to talk.

##  ___Epilogue_

The Dravidian could hear the beating of the rotor very clearly. The increasing sound indicated to him that it was coming his way, and he got ready for his job. The rain was heavy, and the chopper carrying the chief minister was flying very low, almost touching some of the tall trees in the forest. Holding the portable rocket launcher on his shoulder, the Dravidian peered through his binoculars, and strained to identify the chopper through the rain.

It took him a while, but he finally spotted the hazy dot that appeared at the other end of the lake. As the sound grew louder, the dot grew in size. The open environment over the lake made this a golden opportunity for the Dravidian, and he did not want to miss it at any cost. Taking conscious, controlled breaths, he calmly waited for the chopper to come within range.

The sound increased further as seconds ticked away, and the Dravidian's eyes were constantly glued to his target. When the chopper finally came into range, the Dravidian squeezed the trigger, but nothing happened. The launcher was jammed. He shook the tube, and squeezed the trigger several times, but it did not work. Not knowing what to do, he stood still until a huge drop of water fell on his fore head, and got his brain ticking.

Thinking fast, he dropped the launcher, pulled out his long-range gun, and ran forward. When he reached the bank of the lake, the Dravidian wasted no time to take aim and fire. Noticing the Dravidian, the pilot tried to evade the bullets, but was too late. The rain did not make things any easy for him.

Two bullets hit the fuel tank, and one hit the Pilot's right shoulder. With the pilot injured and tank leaking heavily, the chopper swirled for a while, and swerved to its right. It quickly went out of the range of the Dravidian, and crashed into the trees. A couple of seconds later, the Dravidian heard a loud blast, and could spot flames. He took off towards the crash site and inspected the scene. No one had survived the crash, but the Dravidian was not happy with his accomplishment. He stared blankly at the burning wreck for a long while, before slowly making his way to his surviving friends and family.

Next morning, all newspapers carried news about the demise of the chief minister of Kerala. It was reported that he died in a helicopter crash, in what seemed like an unfortunate accident. As Mrs. Smith read out the news over coffee, Arjun knew that this was not an accident. Not by any stretch of imagination.

# **  
**

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