The eyes of terror

It was the law of unintended blessings. Or as HPD Detective Sherlock Gomes said to his FBI pal Charlie Garrison, "Some days you get lucky."

"Lucky so far," Charlie reminded. "Now we've got work to do."

Lucky, because one of the Chinese secret agents they'd rounded up three days earlier, Fon Du, had been singing like a shama thrush -- about Chinese spying operations and infiltration of Hawaii's military, law enforcement, businesses and universities, as well as the bogus Bank of Lhasa, which took funds from Americans investing with the intention of helping the people of Tibet and used them to fund the Chinese occupation of Tibet and the continued rape and torture of Buddhist nuns and priests.

"You've given us some useful information," Gomes said after lunch on the third day, playing good cop, "but ... "

"No buts," Charlie, the bad cop, said. "I checked with the lawyers, we're still going to go for the death penalty. You've got to give us something bigger than this -- though frankly I wouldn't mind watching you fry."

Fon Du thought hard about his final bargaining chip. If he did survive, he would always have to worry about being tracked down and, what, beheaded, perhaps? At best? If not by his own government, then by ...

"You have heard of al-Qaeda?" Fon Du said, getting in a sarcastic dig.

"You gonna be cracking jokes on death row?" Charlie said.

"I hope not." Fon Du took a deep breath. "The day I was arrested, that night I was to meet an al-Qaeda operative at the airport."

Gomes and Charlie exchanged a quick glance.

"Nature of the mission?" Gomes said.

"Something I didn't need to know."

"Your contact?" Charlie said.

"Main man himself, OBL."

"Agent's name?"

"Also unknown. I had a photo of her. She had one of me."

"Her?"

"Yes. Something new, I thought."

"Where is the photo now?" Gomes said.

"Destroyed, of course. I am a professional."

"Of course. Can you describe her to an artist?"

He could. And the resulting likeness looked exactly like Fatima bin Laden. At least the eyes and forehead did. But below the eyes, everything was covered by a veil, and her head was covered with a scarf.

"They actually sent a photo of her in a veil?" Charlie said, wondering if this was Muslim modesty in the extreme, or just really paranoid spycraft.

"It was the best he had, he said. 'She will know you,' he said ... But the eyes, they are beautiful, yes?"

Yes, they were, but Gomes and Charlie saw only the eyes of terror.

"Let's get to work," Gomes said.