The naked dancer channel

"Kind of skinny for a belly dancer," the attractive older Asian woman said in a slightly raspy voice. "But you're hired."

Hired? Fatima bin Laden didn't need a job. Didn't need money. Uncle Osama had already provided an account for her at a Honolulu bank. Fatima had a mission, she did not need a job.

She did, however, need a cover.

And, having arrived in Honolulu less than two hours ago and being stood up by the Chinese agent Uncle Osama said would meet her, she didn't know where else to go, what else to do. So she came here with her new acquaintance Jennifer Hira to dance -- to dance with other women, as she grew up doing. Fatima, like so many Muslim girls, was raised in a kind of insulated bubble, and had seldom had to make a serious life decision for herself. She felt secure in that world, and could not understand the American president's silly notion that all people yearn to be free. No, many people wish to be secure, to live in a system that provides all the answers to life's vagaries, as the Koran did. True freedom was in Allah.

Even this mission, it was her uncle's idea, meant to avenge his colleague Muhammed Resurreccion, who was still held at the Navy brig on Ford Island awaiting trial after his plot to blow up the USS Arizona Memorial was foiled. But when he asked, she'd humbly, happily agreed to risk her life for Allah.

As Jen led her down a hall, Fatima heard a muffled bass rhythm pulsing through the ceiling. So they would be dancing after all.

"Here's the dressing room," Jen said, showing her inside a well-lighted room with mirrors on two sides and a giant closet brimming with bright costumes on another.

Two TV sets were mounted on walls. One showed what was obviously a newscast -- no matter where you go in the world, they all look pretty much the same. The other showed a young woman dancing without any clothes, slithering around a golden pole. Fatima frowned, looked away.

What the news guy on TV said made her frown even more.

"This just in: HPD and the FBI have announced they've busted a Chinese spy ring, the first known breaching of the infamous -- and until now some thought mythical -- Te-Wu."

The screen showed men in windbreakers marked HPD and FBI leading eight Asian men in cuffs and ankle chains from a police van into jail.

One of them she recognized as Uncle Osama's Chinese agent. This meant the numbers she had to call when she required weapons or an emergency bail-out were worthless. Fatima was so alone. Jen was her only hope at the moment.

"Why do you watch that channel?" she said. The naked dancer channel.

"That's closed-circuit video of upstairs," Jen said, stripping down to a thong panty. "I'm on next. Then you."