Scavenger Hunt Challenge Part 1
Tuesday, October 1, 2002

"Hey, everyone, it's another morning and another challenge!" Brian Dern yelled. "And I'm enjoying this immensely because I get to see all of you moan and groan and then go do all the work while I get to sit here and laugh at you -and get paid for it! Is this a great job or what? Today's challenge is 'Cleanup' and you'll all be working to clean up my home back in Odyssey. But I'll get serious now. I want you all sit down here and vote on classifying the members here into three groups, 'Most likely to win in an athletic competition,' 'Most likely to be the mole,' and 'Most likely to lose their way on a road trip.' Two people into each category. Put yourself down in one of those categories, too, and put your name up on the top of your ballot," Dern said as he passed out sheets of paper.

Ten minutes later, the ballots were passed back up to Dern and results were tabulated. "Well, to my great surprise, no one put themselves on the 'Most likely to be the Mole' list," Dern began. "And before I give any results, let me tell you what this challenge is all about. Your challenge is actually a simple scavenger hunt. You know, the game you played at birthday parties when you were a kid." He looked over at Jack and added, "Or weren't birthday parties invented yet when you were a kid?" A few of the contestants scowled, but Connie couldn't stifle a laugh. Jack looked over at her. She clasped her hand over her mouth. "I'm sorry, Jack," she said between giggles. Suddenly, Jack burst into laughter as well.

"Yeah, yeah, great. So glad you all found it so hilariously funny, but can we get to the game now?" Dern asked. He waited a moment. "That's better. Now, you guys are going in three groups of two as decided by the ballots that have just been cast. The 'most likely to lose their way on a road trip' honor goes to Jason and Eugene. Now I find that very interesting. One of these men has traveled all over the world and yet is put down as likely to lose his way on a road trip? Or did you guys, not knowing what I might do, decide to vote in the reverse? Well, it doesn't really matter. Jason, Eugene, I need you guys to stand over here."

"Now we come to 'most likely to be the mole,'" continued Dern. "So Jack and Richard, step up here. I'll say this: if one of you is the mole, you haven't done a good job of hiding your identity so far!" He chuckled and waved them on to stand beside Jason and Eugene.

"And now we come to the final category, 'Most likely to win in an athletic competition.' And here we have Mitch and Connie. Now wait a minute, just wait a minute! Connie, how did you manage to get voted into this group?" Connie just smiled and declined to comment. Mitch chuckled. "Oh, I get it," said Dern. "Conspiracy. You guys all wanted to give Connie and Mitch a chance to do this one together. But did you forget about honesty in the process? You all know Connie isn't athletic!" Dern almost screamed at the contestants.

"Now here's how this challenge is going to work," said Dern, calming down somewhat. "Each group is going to start out with a different clue, but all three of them lead to the same place. Just like a scavenger hunt, you keep following the clues until you reach the some sort of mole. After the first clue, the three groups will be sent to the same area but in search of different things, so there will be three moles in various forms hidden in separate places. For each team that finds theirs and bring it with them back to this location by three a.m. tomorrow, we put $25,000 into the group pot. Additionally, we're going to break the normal mole rules of engagement where we never tell you guys what to expect: the two members of the first team to find their mole and bring it back will both receive exemptions and each will be given a check made out to them for $6,000, which I'm sure you'll all agree is a decent chunk of change."

"No helping other teams out in this game. We'll have our guys following you to monitor your play and for each violation of this rule, we'll take $3,000 off of anything you earn. If you don't earn anything, you don't lose anything, but I'm sure you all are going into this hoping to win something, right?"

Each was given $2,500, a car to drive and was told to find their first clue in their vehicle's glove compartment. They were to start from different locations the same distance away from their target location. They had been taken to their respective vehicles and were underway in the continental scavenger hunt!

"Read me that clue again," said Jason as he pulled the car out of the gravel lot in which it had been parked. Eugene looked down at the small sheet of paper he was holding in his hands and began in an acting voice, "Among the six million each year that--"

"Give me that thing," Jason said, snatching the paper from Eugene and reading over the words printed there.

Among the millions each year that this site come to see,
Amongst the gathering crowds, a person-made sea.
The next clue is posted at sixteen sixty-five,
Find it if in this game you wish to stay alive!

He read the words and turned them over in his mind, trying to comprehend their meaning. "Great," he muttered. "Completely lost on the first clue." Eugene looked up thoughtfully. "But don't you get it?" he asked. "Millions each year. Which sites in Europe get that many tourists each year?" Jason rubbed his chin. "Well, several, I'd guess. Buckingham Palace, the Eiffel Tower, Stonehenge, Rome. And this sixteen sixty-five bit. What's that, a mailing address? I mean, there's too many to choose from!" Eugene smiled knowingly. "Ah, but only one of those fits with sixteen hundred and sixty-five," he said. "Let's go the airport, Jason."

In car two a mile away, Connie held up a piece of paper as Mitch read over it carefully.

To begin your journey you must go,
Its towering structure stand below.
Snap a photo by day, but not by night,
At daylight it's fine, but at night it's not right.

"Well, at least it rhymes," said Connie. "But other than that, I'd say they need a new poet." Mitch smiled and said, "Forget the rhyme scheme, Connie. We've got to figure out what this means. Towering structure. That's got to be important."

"Yeah," said Connie. "Maybe it's Big Ben!" Mitch thought for a moment. "Could be," he said. "But what's this photography part all about? Not being right to take pictures by night and all sounds really odd." Connie nodded. "We're not even out of the driveway yet and we're already confused," she said.

In the third and final car, Jack and Richard, the two chosen by the others as most likely to be the mole, stared silently at their clue. "Lemme see that again," said Richard after a moment, breaking the silence. "I'm really stuck here."

In New York Harbor a lady doth stand,
The torch of freedom grasped in her hand.
Proceed now to her maker's European masterpiece,
Where your knowledge of this game shall increase!

"Well, the first part's clear as a bell," said Richard. "Statue of Liberty. But who made the thing and what else did the guy make?" Jack said thoughtfully, "Wasn't it a gift from the French?" Richard laughed. "How would I know?" he asked. "Well, let's see. What's in France? Oh, how about the Leaning Tower of Pisa?" Jack chuckled. "That's in Italy and must have been built about eight hundred years ago. I don't think anyone lived long enough to build both."

"Well then, this calls for a bit of an investigation," said Richard, pulling out his cellular phone from his pocket. "Aww, no signal here," he complained. "Jack, can you get us out towards the highway a bit so we can pick up a signal?"

"Sure," said Jack as he popped the vehicle into gear and eased down onto the accelerator while releasing the break. "But I thought cell-phones and other gadgets weren't allowed in this game." Richard looked slightly embarrassed. "Yeah, well," he mumbled. "It's not really that they're not allowed. They just wanted us to pack light and enjoy our surroundings, I think." Jack looked unsure, but Richard insisted. After a few minutes of driving, they found a spot where they had a decent signal and Richard dialed. "Hey, Rachel, it's me. Yeah, sis, it's your brother." He paused and laughed. "You know which brother it is. You only have one! Anyways, I need you to go online and find out who made the Statue of Liberty. Then, find out what other projects the guy worked on in Europe."

"Let's see," she mumbled as she typed several keywords into a search engine on her computer. "I found a page. No, wait, it says page not found. Give me a sec." Richard leaned over to Jack and whispered, "She's looking." Rachel Maxwell came back on the line. "Got some names. It was designed by some guy named Frédéric-Auguste Bartholdi with help from someone named Edouard Rene Lefebvre de Laboulaye. I can't even pronounce these names!" Richard chuckled softly and replied, "Yeah. That last guy had like five names or so, didn't he? Well, can you run those two names through a search engine and see what they turn up?"

Rachel didn't immediately reply. "Wait a minute," she said. "The structure was designed by a French engineer named Alexandre-Gustave Eiffel."

"Eiffel!" said Richard. "I think we've got our man. Thanks, sis! Gotta run." He hit the End Callbutton and slipped his cell phone back into his pocket. "Well, Jack, it looks like we're headed for France."

In car one, Jason turned to Eugene. "Okay, we're heading to an airport and you say we're going to the Eiffel Tower, but I don't get it. Where in the world do you get the Eiffel Tower out of this thing?" he said, shaking the paper. "The number. Sixteen hundred sixty five, which is the exact number of stairs inside the Eiffel Tower," said Eugene.

And in the one remaining car, Connie and Mitch just sat there, completely confused.

Scavenger Hunt Challenge Part 2
Wednesday, October 2, 2002

"No, no, that won't work," shouted Richard into his cell phone. "Yes, two tickets. No, coach is fine. I don't care where I sit, I just want on that plane! Yes, I'll hold." He cupped his hand over the mouthpiece and whispered to Jack, "They're trying to find an opening in the flights to Paris. They're pretty booked up, I guess. Some sort of delays there and the next flight available doesn't leave for hou—oh, hold on," he said, pressing the phone closer to his ear.

"Yes, that would be fine. And the fare… yes. Okay, great. Flight 448? Got it. Thanks," he said, hitting the end button and flipping the cell closed. "Well, we've got two seats on the three pm flight to Paris," he told Jack. "Three pm?" Jack repeated, surprised. "But it's only about 9 o'clock in the morning right now and the airport's what, an hour away?"

Richard nodded. "Hope you brought a good book."

In another car several miles away, Eugene whipped out a Palm Pilot and his cellular phone. Jason looked at him, slightly puzzled. "Eugene, maybe it's none of my business, but are you supposed to have that stuff?" Eugene sighed. "Jason, the rules never stated that electronics were forbidden, did they? They merely stated that we were to pack light and only bring those things that were most essential. Jason, I can think of nothing more essential than electronic units." He smiled and Jason chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, I see what you mean," he said. "Okay, so whatcha gonna do with that PDA and cell?"

Eugene snapped an adaptor onto the base of the Palm unit and plugged the accompanying cord into the power cord slot of his cell phone. On the Palm Pilot, he clicked once on "Wireless Internet" and chose "external source" for the connection, typed in a short password and clicked the Dial button. The phone received the prompt and dialed an Ohio-based access number. After a short series of computer processing noises, a connection was established. "7.5 kilobits per second," Eugene read, frowning. "Is that bad?" inquired Jason. Eugene nodded as he entered text into an internet search engine. "But it's about all you can expect on one of these things." A few minutes later, he looked up at Jason. "We can get on a 11:20 AM flight to Paris at gate C-7 if we can make it to the airport on time," he announced. Jason looked at the clock on the old car they were driving, then looked down at his watch and replied, "It's five after nine right now. We should be there with and through security with time to spare."

In the final car, Connie and Mitch were arguing about what to do next. "Well, we've got to do something," said Connie. "Maybe we could see if we could find and follow one of the other cars," she suggested. "Connie, they started in different places and are miles away by now," Mitch countered. "We've got to figure this one out on our own."

"Well, what was that clue again?" Mitch read the clue to her and Connie thought for a moment. "Tower," she mumbled. "Tower of Babel?" she offered. Mitch's stony look turned into a faint smile. "I don't think they're sending us to Iraq, Connie. Besides, there's the part about the pictures. Why don't we see if we can find a tourist center anywhere around here and ask the people there?"

Connie frowned and said, "What, just drive around aimlessly until we find one?" Mitch stared at her. "You have any better ideas?" he asked.

*******

"Last call for Flight 385 to Berlin, continuing on to Copenhagen," came the voice over the speakers as Eugene and Jason rushed into the terminals. "Ticket counters, ticket counters," mumbled Jason as he scanned the area for a place to purchase tickets. He spotted a counter and he and Eugene raced towards the line. A few minutes later, they were standing in front of the counter, ready to purchase tickets. "Two tickets on the 11:20 flight to Paris. Round-trip." The ticket clerk looked up and asked how they would pay. "Will American dollars do?" inquired Jason, leaning against the counter. The clerk's eyes lit up and he nodded. "$2,578 American," he said through a thick accent. Jason stared and asked for the price to be repeated.

"We're $78 short and that doesn't even account for expenses in Paris," he whispered to Eugene. Eugene nodded solemnly and Jason turned back to the ticket clerk. "Isn't there anything cheaper?" he asked. The clerk shook his head and Jason at Eugene, who was standing to the right of him "Now what?" he asked. Eugene leaned against the counter for a moment, then pulled out his own wallet and counted out seventy-eight dollars. "That should cover us," he said.

Jason stared. "I can't let you do that!" he said, grabbing his own wallet and counting out $39. "You're only paying half of it," he told Eugene, pulling back half Eugene's money and handing it back to him. He slid the rest of the money to the grinning clerk. "You know, I didn't really think about it until now, but I've never carried so much money at one time before," said Jason, looking around the building. "I've always paid for large purchases with checks or a credit card."

Eugene nodded and the two headed for the C-7 gate to wait for their flight.

Just as Eugene and Jason sat down to wait, they noticed Jack and Richard making their way towards them. "You on the three o'clock flight too?" asked Richard, taking the seat next to Eugene. "Guess we'll be sitting here a while." Eugene looked up with surprise. "No, we're on the eleven twenty flight," said Eugene and Richard slammed his fist down onto the chair. "What?" he nearly shouted. "And we're already booked for the 3 PM flight. Come on, Jack," he said, rising from his chair and stomping angrily towards the flight information counter.

"I have some tickets I want to exchange," he said. "We need to get to Paris fast, so could we trade these two tickets for the earlier flight?" The lady at the counter looked up. "I'm sorry, sir, but these tickets are non-refundable. If you wish, you can purchase additional tickets for the earlier flight." Richard turned and walked away, disgusted.

"This is crazy," Connie said as she sat in the passenger seat of the car. Mitch, in the driver's seat, agreed. They were completely unable to come to conclusion based on the clue provided to them.

"It just isn't worth it," said Mitch. "We don't have a chance in the world of figuring this thing out. What do you say to us just turning around and heading back?"

Connie put her hands to her face and didn't answer for a moment. "Connie?" Finally, she replied. "Yeah, I guess we don't have much of a choice," she said. "Let's go back."

Meanwhile, at the airport, Jason and Eugene waved goodbye to Jack and Richard as they boarded the plane. Richard scowled. "There goes six thousand for each of us," he said to Jack as he leaned back in his chair. Jack replied simply, "Our flight doesn't leave for nearly four hours. Why don't we go get a bite to eat and maybe roam around a while?" Richard nodded. "Sure, whatever," he said.

Thirty minutes later, Eugene and Jason were flying over Europe at 50,000 feet. "So, Jason, what are your thoughts on the identity of the traitor among us?" Eugene asked. Jason looked up from the book he was reading and smiled. "Mole, Eugene. Mole. Drop the traitor and saboteur and whatever other words you have up your sleeve and just call her the mole. But, you know, I'm not sure if telling you my suspicions is all that great of an idea. I do want to win, you know."

Eugene laughed. "If you want to win, don't be so obvious," he said. "You said 'she' and there is only one person that you could possibly be referencing: Miss Kendall." Jason groaned. "Yell, well, I could have been trying to throw you off track," said Jason, grasping for a way to nullify his words. Eugene only smiled. "But you weren't," he said. "You said that without thinking. You think Miss Kendall is the mole."

Jason nodded. "Yeah, maybe. I mean, it kind of looks that way and the rest of the group has kind of ignored her when it comes to figuring out who the mole is. She's played it well, but I'm pretty sure it's her. It's just one of those things. I can't prove it, but I'm pretty sure about it. So, what about you?"

Eugene thought for a moment. "It's an interesting game," he said finally. "I have compiled several dozen of pages of notes concerning the words and actions of the contestants and have drawn several conclusions based on this data. I believe I have successfully determined whom many of my fellow contestants view as the mole, but thus far I have not been able to concretely determine any more than that information. Without data, I feel that it would be imprudent to expound any further."

Three hours later, Eugene and Jason stood atop the final flight of stairs inside the Eiffel Tower and looked over the clue that had been handed to them by the security guard as they reached the top. "Oh, great," said Jason. "Well, come on, Eugene. It's time to head back to where we started from. And don't correct me about that preposition nonsense, Eugene," he finished as Eugene began to point out that Jason had ended his sentence improperly. Eugene nodded, a grin spreading over his face.

But it would be soon wiped off as Jason hailed a cab after the two made their way out of the tower. "To the airport," said Jason and the cabbie nodded. As an afterthought, Eugene asked what the fare would be for the trip and as the driver answered, both men looked into their wallets. "I've got it covered, Eugene," said Jason, then added with obvious embarrassment, "Oh, I'm completely out! All I've got is some small change." Eugene rifled through his wallet and looked up at Jason, nervously. "I don't have enough, either. I'm four dollars short," he said. "Why'd you have to tip the first cabbie five bucks?" moaned Jason. "I told you not to give him that much and now look what it did to us." Eugene stared at him and finally responded in kind. "Well, it was your idea to buy that souvenir book. That ten dollar purchase is going to cost us the game," he growled.

"It looks like we're in a bit of a jam here," Jason said, summing up the situation.

*******

Ingrid Stoughton sat at the small, well-worn desk in her tiny cubicle at the StarNet offices. StarNet was the primary internet service provider choice for the Odyssey, Connelsville and Odenton areas and their understaffed help desks received far more calls than could be easily handled by the three-person tech support crew employed by the company. Her small desk was plastered with sticky notes reminding her to ask the chief administrator to look at some problematic system settings off-limits to her and of other issues which she was unable to resolve. A small photo of her three-year old son sat prominently on the desk in a simple wooden frame and her cubicle wall was plastered with pictures of her family.

She finished helping a person trouble-shoot his modem, then punched the button to advance to the next call. The caller had logged his name simply as Sam and was in need of assistance concerning a halted email flow going from his account and sudden validation issues.

"Okay," said Ingrid. "It looks like one of your incoming emails got stripped of its headers and jammed your inbox," she said as she navigated through the "pine" email system and found the problem email. She added a quick header to allow the UNIX system to recognize it as an incoming email and resume transfer when the subject line caught her eye. The company would definitely frown on her reading private email, but she suddenly felt like she had to do so. She just couldn't help it. The subject read "Contingency Plan for Brain Wave Project." She began reading the message:

MEMORANDUM

To: Engineering Department

As you are aware, the plan put in effect culminating with the incident involving radio station transmitting of our signals failed due to key opposition efforts near the completion of the project. Three days later, the contingency plan was placed into operation, but provision was made for concerns that outside parties may wittingly or not have information that may lead them to uncover our plans after certain portions of it go into effect and again provide strong opposition to our goals. For this reason, potential problems are being solved by a team of experts, led by a high-level employee of this corporation.

At this present time, we believe it likely that those who had access to the incriminating documents were unaware of what they possessed and one of these problems has been solved by the elimination of all data on hard drive and portable media. The other target of our investigation has of yet not indicated in any way the presence of the desired documents and a thorough search failed to turn up anything, leading us to believe that no additional data has been compromised.

Knowing this, we feel it is time to embark on the second phase of the contingency plan. Has the decision been approved by the necessary officials? What is the word from SecNav on the project? Please notify the office immediately if a go-ahead is provided.

Units to be installed are ready. We await the word. The clock ticks down to launch date.

It was signed simply, with only one letter. "C."

Ingrid suddenly realized that she was still on the phone. "Oh, yes," she stammered. "Yes, sir. The email is fine, sir. I mean it's working now. Sorry, sir," she said, shaking as she hung up the phone. Nothing in the memo was inherently wrong, but she felt sure that something big was going on. "It must be a government project or something," she breathed. "I'm in big trouble."

"Wow, that's quite a walk," Richard said, catching his breath. He looked back at Jack, who was lagging a ways behind, holding his side and apparently in pain. "Jack, you okay?" Jack nodded. "Just find the clue and lets get down from here," he said through gasps for breath. A security guard, hearing Jack's words, smiled and pulled an envelope out from under his jacket. "Here you go," he said, handing it to Richard. "And thanks for visiting the Eiffel Tower!"

"What does it say?" Jack asked as the two made their way down the winding staircases inside the great structure. "Uh, let me see," replied Richard, tearing the letter open and extracting the slip of paper inside. He tossed the envelope aside and cleared his throat. "Richard," Jack began to chide, but trailed off when a rather large security guard walked over to Richard "Hey buddy," he said, putting his hand on Richard's shoulder and blocking his way. "Is this your envelope?" he asked. Richard gulped and replied weakly, "Yeah."

"Then take it," the guard said, walking away. Richard stuffed the torn envelope in his pocket and continued walking. "As I was saying," he began, looking over the piece of paper in his hand. "Oh, wonderful. Just great. Well here, you read it," he said, passing the paper to Jack.

Now it is time to return to whence you came,
Your new destination and original location, the same.
Upon your arrival, check in at your rooms,
There you'll find another clue; another challenge looms!

Jack groaned. "You mean we came all the way to Paris just to head right back again?" Richard nodded and said, "Well, hey, look on the bright side. We just got a free trip to go see the Eiffel Tower!" Then he added, "I guess we ought to get back to the airport and get two tickets back. Eugene and Jason are probably already back there reading the next clue, you know."

Actually, Eugene and Jason were walking towards the direction of the airport, continually trying to hitch a ride, but to no avail.

"All right, we're going to go through these rooms with a fine-toothed comb if it comes to it," said Richard, growing desperate. It was nearly midnight and the two had arrived over an hour ago. As they had expected, Eugene and Jason were already back. What they had not expected was to find out that Eugene and Jason had given up and the game workers following them paid their cab fare and took them back, eliminating them from the game.

They were also surprised to learn that Mitch and Connie had returned back over four hours ago, voluntarily eliminating themselves from the game after they failed to determine the meaning of the first clue.

"Richard, look over here!" Jack called, a tone of excitement in his voice. He had moved a mini-freezer and behind it, traced in the dust-covered wall uncovered by the moving of the appliance, an arrow pointed strait up. Their eyes were drawn to the drop-tile ceiling and Richard stepped up on a chair and pushed a tile to the side. When he did so, a note fluttered to the ground. Jack swooped it up and read:

Trained in the art of legerdemain,
Secret the mole's identity shall remain,
But the secret of this puzzle is this:
Search this house for something that's amiss.

"Legerdemain?" Richard sputtered. "What's that supposed to mean?" Jack shrugged his shoulders and pulled out a dictionary that had been resting on a shelf in the room. "Convenient," muttered Richard as Jack perused through the pages until he found the correct entry. "A display of skill, trickery, or artful deception," he said. "Seems to fit the mole pretty well, wouldn't you think?"

"If you mean it fits you pretty well, don't kid yourself," replied Richard. "Mr. Maxwell, are you implying that I am the mole?" inquired Jack in a tone that sounded almost angry - or at least, as angry as a tone could sound coming from the kindly Jack Allen. "That's exactly what I'm saying," said Richard. "After all, there's a reason you were voted into the 'most likely to be the mole' group and it isn't because you're four inches long and live underground."

"Well, I could remind you of the same thing," said Jack. "You were voted into this group too!" Richard grinned. "Quite true," he said. "We both know who the mole is, of course, since we are certain of our own status and confident that one of the two of us is the mole."

"Exactly," put in Jack. "That means you're the mole." Richard laughed. "Not so fast, old man. We both know that you're the mole, not I." Jack was about to continue arguing the point, but he decided instead to end the argument, saying softly, "Well, what do you say to trying to find something 'amiss' around here?"

"I sure hope it wasn't in this room," said Richard. "The way we tore this room apart, we'd never be able to find out if something was wrong here originally or not!" Jack pondered the situation for a moment, then said, "Why don't we assume that it is in a different room and begin searching downstairs, work our way through the rooms and search our own rooms last?" he asked. "It seems like they wouldn't want to put everything in our own rooms anyways, so we'd probably be rather safe in doing so. What do you think?" Richard nodded and the two headed downstairs to begin their search.

First, they ransacked the kitchen, peering in bags of flower, pulling out potatoes, taking everything out of the cupboards and even thumbing through a cookbook. "I feel terrible about this," said Jack, but both he and Richard continued working. "Well, if anything's out of place here, I can't see it," said Richard. "And nothing else has turned up either." Jack chuckled and replied, "Well, if something was out of place in a kitchen, too men would probably be the last to notice."

After the kitchen came the spacious living room of the bed and breakfast, where several of the contestants who were still awake sat watching BBC One, the only English language channel they could receive on the set. Jack and Richard raced into the room and after quickly surveying it for anything obviously out of place, they began tearing it apart. "Off the couch," Richard demanded to Mitch, who was intently watching the news on the British network. Mitch grumbled but conceded and Richard quickly threw all the cushions off the sofa and peered under, in and around it.

"Nothing," he muttered. "Nothing, nothing and nothing. You find anything, Jack?" he asked of Mr. Allen, who was busy looking over pictures set about the coffee table. "A bit of dust on the one photo," began Jack with a smile, and then trailed off. Richard looked up to see why Jack had stopped. Jack was holding one of the pictures in his hand, but when Richard looked up, he quickly replaced it on the table. "Funny," he muttered, "but I think I've seen that man before."

"Oh, come off it Jack," laughed Richard, tossing a pillow from the sofa at him. "Don't tell me it's another one of your dreams." Jack considered for a moment. "No… No, I don't think so," he said at last. "Well, we've got a lot more house to search," he said as Richard continued to stare at him, a puzzled expression on his face.

Next came the dining hall, where the table was already set for the next day's breakfast. "Too bad we missed dinner," said Jack. "Mitch said they served a great roast." Richard smiled. "And I always thought bed and breakfasts just gave you a bed and served you breakfast," commented Richard. "I guess when a big company from the United States wants to pay you a lot of cash to house some guests for a few days, you add a bit more service," said Jack with a smile. "I just hope the disaster we made out of that kitchen doesn't disrupt tomorrow's breakfast."

"Amiss," muttered Richard as he looked around the room. "Hey Jack, look at this," he said, his voice rising slightly. He motioned towards a setting on the table where it was immediately obvious that a knife was missing. "This must be it," said Jack and the two peered under the plate, rolled up the tablecloth to look underneath, examined the chair and looked around on the floor. "Maybe it's behind the place," suggested Richard as he turned to face a large grandfather clock a short distance behind the place at the table. Opening up the front, he looked down beneath and among the weights and felt behind the pendulum before moving on to around the face of the clock, after which he motioned for Jack to turn a flashlight on him as he looked behind the clock. Jack did so, using a flashlight the two had found in a kitchen drawer and borrowed, thinking it might be useful, and Richard carefully looked up and down the back of the old timepiece.

"Nothing," Richard said in disgust. "But why a missing knife, then?" he asked, somewhat rhetorically although somewhat expecting or perhaps hoping that Jack could provide an answer. He did. "It just occurred to me that Connie's on one of those all-veggie diets right now and I think they're serving steak and eggs for breakfast. They had that the first day we were here too and they gave us a whole slab of meat. Now if she's skipping the steak--"

Richard cut jack off mid-sentence. "Then she wouldn't need a knife," he said with a sigh. "Come on, Jack. Let's keep searching. What time is it, anyways?" Jack looked at his watch. "About one o'clock," he said. "Two hours left to find this mole thing."

They quickly examined the rest of the room from where they had left off when Richard made the discovery concerning the missing knife. The room was well decorated, complete with spotless white wall-to-wall carpeting, the stately grandfather clock, a magnificent display of expensive china housed in a towering cabinet and two pictures. The first was a rather impressionistic painting featuring a boy bearing a plate of meat in a brightly colored impression of a village. It appeared to be a print and on the frame was printed the word "Purim." The second piece of artwork, which also appeared to be a print, was labeled "Composition with Blue."

Richard laughed. "If that's blue, my eyes have gone bad," he said. "And am I supposed to be greatly impressed that some artist somewhere can draw a white diamond shape on a black background?" Jack laughed. "To some people, that's a masterpiece." Richard shook his head. "To me, it looks like the guy made it using a stencil."

"The originals of both of those paintings were confiscated by the Nazis in the Second World War," said Jack. "Very interesting." Richard laughed. "Very dumb if you ask me. Why would anyone want to steal those things?"

Having completed an examination of the dining room, the two moved on to the first of the bedrooms and knocked on the closed door. No answer. "Well, they wouldn't have hidden it in there," said Richard. "After all, they can't expect us to search a room someone else is staying in." Jack agreed, and they ascended the steps to the second floor, which housed several more bedrooms, a bathroom and a game room. Jack immediately headed towards the game room, but Richard stopped him. "You forgot about the bathroom," he said.

"It wouldn't be in there," protested Jack. "Oh, I don't know about that," Richard said, then added, "I'll tell you what. You start on the game room while I do a quick search of the bathroom. Okay with you?" Jack said yes and made his way towards the game room. A few minutes later, Richard joined him. "It's clean," he said. "Literally. They really keep this entire place pretty spotless, actually."

The two began searching the room and Richard yawned loudly. "Boy could I use some sweets. A chocolate bar would be just the thing to keep me awake right now," he said. "Sweets," muttered Jack. Then his voice rose and he nearly shouted his next words. "Sweets. Of course!"

"Yeah, yeah. Of course," began Richard. Then, "Wait, what do you mean 'of course'?" Jack grinned broadly and headed back for the stairs. "Hey, where are you going?" questioned Richard. "The dining room," said Jack. "Oh, how did I miss it?" he said. "Miss what?" demanded Richard, growing impatient.

"The painting," Jack replied excitedly as he quickened his pace. "The boy was carrying a tray of meat, remember?" Richard nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Looked like someone was going to eat a roasted duck." Jack's already wide grin grew wider. "Exactly," he said. "The painting was by a man named Marc Chagall and the subject was the Jewish feast of Purim." He paused. "Richard, Purim is the feast in celebration of biblical story Esther going before the King. They don't eat meat during Purim!"

Finally comprehending what Jack meant, Richard couldn't suppress a laugh. "So you mean the real painting didn't have the kid carrying a plate of meat?" he asked. "Right," said Jack as they entered the room. "In the original, the boy was carrying sweets!"

He overturned the picture to reveal an image of a mole on the back. The two raced to the living room where Dern was struggling to keep awake by watching a BBC documentary on the history of cheese. "Dern!" Richard shouted. "We found it! We found it!"

"Well, well, well," said Dern, looking up at the two. "The two voted most likely to be the mole are the only ones to pass challenge seven. Congratulations." And with that, he hit the power button on the TV and sprawled out on the sofa. "Mr. Dern?" whispered Jack. But Bryan Dern couldn't hear him. He was fast asleep.

*******

"Excited," shouted Richard. "And I used up all seven tiles, so I get even more points!" Richard, Mitch and Connie were playing a game of Upwords in one of the four bedrooms in the house that had been rented for a five-day stay by the contestants. The challenge had ended at around one thirty that morning when Jack and Richard completed the scavenger hunt and they were all given a much-needed break before the elimination. "Not again," groaned Connie. "You always come up with the big words. I keep getting stuck with 'help' and 'son' while you end up with 'excited' and 'splurge' and stuff."

Richard quickly added up the scores. "I'm at 221. Mitch, you have 176 and Connie has 84." A grin spread over Richard's face as he finished, "And you never thought I was good with words." Connie smiled and added, "It's a good thing Eugene's playing chess with Jason or he'd be destroying all of us."

At a table not far from the others, Eugene stared down at his position, concentrating deeply. "Yes," murmured Eugene after a while. "Rook to g1, check." Jason stared for a moment. "I thought you'd take the trade," he said as he quickly interposed his white rook between his king and Eugene's checking rook. Eugene then initiated a trade of the rooks and Jason sighed. "Why didn't you do that a turn ago and save us from adding yet another move to this terribly long game?" Eugene smiled faintly. "I have reasons," he said cryptically as he moved his remaining rook to occupy the d-file.

"Yeah, well, I'd sure like to hear them," said Jason, quickly countering with his second king move in a row. "Your pawn structure is weak," Eugene informed him. "You cannot withstand the attack of my remaining pieces and after I eliminate your rook, you will have essentially lost the game." Jason looked up. "Yeah, and how do you propose to eliminate my rook?" Eugene met his gaze and replied, "The same way Viswanathan Anand eliminated Antoly Karpov's rook in a similar situation a few years ago." Jason chuckled. "That helps a lot. I understand everything now!" he said sarcastically. Three moves later, Jason resigned. "Well, I think I'll go watch some TV now," suggested Jason. "I'm looking forward to relaxing for a change."

After gathering up the pieces, Eugene carried the board to the room where he and Jason were lodging. He reached for his suitcase to pack his chess board away.

He looked around. Jason was still in the other room, talking with a few of the others and had indicated that he was headed to the livingh room to watch television. He pulled out his laptop and quickly powered it up. The computer beeped twice and read "Disk Drive Failure." Eugene frowned as he looked at his disk drives. Nothing was in the A: drive and the CD drive did hold a CD, but it was not one that would attempt to override the system and potentially cause problems. Still, he ejected the CD and hard booted his laptop. Again, it beeped and read disk drive failure. He hit F2 to access the system settings. And by that time he realized it: his hard drive had been completely wiped out. And of one thing he was completely sure. It was no accident.

Speculation Week Seven
Friday, October 4, 2002

Mitch: "I really don't know who the mole might be, but it keeps coming back to me that it could be Connie. Neither of us knew what to do in this challenge. We were both stumped, I guess, but I am a little suspicious and wonder if perhaps Connie was concealing something. Perhaps she knew more about it than she let on. But then again, if she isn't the mole, she's probably wondering the same thing about me."

Connie: "Well, we didn't do so great, did we? Anyways, I still wonder if Mitch is the mole, but somehow, even though he did that type of thing inside Novacom for the FBI and everything, I just don't think he's the mole. I was really surprised when I woke up this morning and Mitch told me that Jack and Richard actually finished their challenge. I mean, everyone here thought they were the suspicious two and yet they did the best of all of us. This game has me confused."

Richard: "Jack saved the day for us, but I still have a few suspicions. Maybe he just decided to let us win this time to confuse everyone. Throw us off track, kinda. After all, he did take a while to realize the problem with that picture and he had expressed a lot of interest in it when we were in that room. I've gotta wonder if he figured it out then or even knew about it beforehand and didn't decide to let me know until the end when he figured he had to do something for the team. Another interesting thing I picked up on involved Eugene and Jason. It seems to me that I heard them talking about their trip and they said they bought round-trip airline tickets. Now, we were never told we'd be having a round trip until we came to our clues, so how'd they know to purchase them? I've been thinking about it and I guess there are a few options. For one, maybe one of them is the mole and slipped up, showing a little too much of what he knew. Or maybe, considering both of those men are pretty brainy, maybe they figured out that if they had to end up back here eventually and one-way took up about half their money, that they would have to be coming back to the same place by plane, so they felt it safe to purchase the tickets. I mean, it makes sense, but it sure took me a while to think of it. Not that that means anything. Or maybe they just bought the round-trip without thinking and it just happened to work out. The whole thing's probably nothing and I think I'll stay with Jack as my primary suspect, but I still haven't ruled Eugene and Jason out."

Jack: "Well, I've been rather unsure throughout this game about who the mole might be. I've suspected just about everyone and I think I only confuse myself more every time I think about it. In yesterday's challenge, Richard didn't do much, really. I found the clue in the room and was the one who figured out the problem with the picture. Of course, I wouldn't expect Richard to know much about artwork and he did get us to the Eiffel Tower in the first place, but I can't seem to ignore the nagging suspicion that he's been up to no good the entire game. He's always just bordering on showing himself to be the mole without ever actually giving anyone the absolute proof."

Jason: "Eugene ruined it for us. If he hadn't given that enormous tip to the cabbie, we just might have been winners instead of returning here in shame. But I just don't know if that makes him the mole or not. I might as well admit it since the cameras probably caught the whole thing anyways: I wasted some cash too. It would have been enough to make it back if I hadn't squandered it. I guess we're both guilty, but obviously I know myself, so I'm still rather suspicious of Eugene. I've never really bought into the idea of Jack being the mole much, but I think Robert Mitchell would be just the type for it, so I'm watching him rather closely too."

Eugene: "Alas, yet another lost chance. And yet, I cannot say with any great confidence that I know or even strongly suspect the identity of the mole that resides amongst us. Nearly everyone here has done something that I would deem suspicious at some point in this game and it is quite difficult to determine much from the data provided. I have my suspicions and Connie isn't one of the two in whom my suspicions lie, but I do marvel at the fact that she has gone through this game almost completely unsuspected and it that singular fact is at least immensely intriguing, although it is by no means solid proof of anything whatsoever."

Elimination Week Seven
Sunday, October 6, 2002

Mitch strolled into the living room. "Oh, guess I'm a little late," he grinned sheepishly. "Well, any verdict yet?" Dern laughed. "No, we waited so you could share the anguish. Besides, who knows? You just may get the boot!" Mitch's smile vanished as he considered the prospects of being forced to leave the game.

The remaining contestants had managed to survive in a difficult game and after persevering through so much, it was hard for any of them to fathom the idea of being kicked out of the game, although it was something that they thought about frequently.

"Well, I won't keep you in suspense any longer," said Dern, dimming the lights in the room. "Lets take a look and see who's gonna say goodbye." He adjusted the light settings on his laptop monitor before proceeding. "Let's see," he said. "Who wants their name typed into the computer first?"

Richard grinned broadly and raised his hand. "Besides Richard and Jack," said Dern. "Bet you too men are glad to have those exemptions right now," he continued as he looked around the room. "Okay, lets start with Jason for a change," he said, tapping out the letters into the laptop. The name "Jason Whittaker" appeared on the screen, basking in a soft green glow. "Safe," breathed Jason. "I was a little uneasy about this."

"Okay, let's move on to Mitch," said Dern, again typing the name into the computer. All the contestants strained to see what would appear on the screen. To Mitch's relief, it was once again green.

"Well, it looks like either Connie or Eugene is going to say goodbye this time," said Dern. "Now, who wants to volunteer to go first?" Eugene slowly raised his hand. "May I have the honor of typing my own name into the computer before I'm eliminated?" he asked. "Sure. Be my guest," said Dern, waving his arm at the computer.

Eugene slowly made his way towards the center of the room where the laptop set on a small table and sat down in front of it. He appeared to re-consider for a moment, then began slowly typing in his name. "Enter," he said, watching the screen. "Well, goodbye, everyone. I've enjoyed my." he said, then gasped. "It's - it' green!" he shouted joyously. Then his joy abated as he looked at Connie. "Congratulations, Eugene," she said, holding back tears.

"Just for fun, let's see what happens when we type the name Connie Kendall into this thing," said Dern, obviously enjoying himself. "You don't have to, Bryan. I know I'm done," Connie said quietly, but Dern didn't pay any attention to her words. "C-O-N-N-I-E," he said as he typed the letters into the computer, pausing after each one, something that only served to increase the pain for Connie. "Well what do ya know?" laughed Dern. "Red."

Connie hung her head low. "It's been a great game, guys," she said. "I had a lot of fun. And now," she stopped, tears streaming down her face, "I guess there comes a time when you just have to go." She wiped the tears and walked silently out of the room.

Reactions Week Seven
Monday, October 7, 2002

Jack: "I think we're all a little saddened to see Connie go. I've come to know her so well over the years in Odyssey that it's hard to see her go, just as it would be hard to see Jason or Eugene leave. Still, I'm impressed with how well she did in this game and while I know she's disappointed, I'm sure she's also a little relieved that it's all over.

Mitch: "Why Connie? Why did she have to go next? This game just isn't as fun anymore now that she's gone. I kept hoping that she and I would both be around in the final round, but now I'm not even sure I still want to be around then. At least Connie gets some money for playing. I'm sure that will go a long way towards college or whatever she decides to do."

Jason: "It must have been tough on her, making it this far then being told that it was her turn to leave. She made the game interesting for all of us and I don't think any of us were glad to see her go. It seems like the people who remain are all people I don't want to see leave. It will be tough each elimination from now on."

Eugene: "I'm sure this was quite difficult for Miss Kendall. She had survived in this difficult game far longer than any of us could have imagined and I'm sure going this far only to be eliminated from the game was a great blow to her, proverbially speaking. Personally, I enjoy the eliminations far less each time and Mr. Dern's comments and demeanor only serve to elevate my contempt for these events."

Richard: "Well, well, well. Connie got nailed on that last quiz. A little surprising, but not an altogether bad thing. I mean, really. Come on. Everyone should get over their 'poor Connie' bit and realize that she didn't do anything to help the group. It was just whine and complain the whole time and while I'm not saying she's a bad person or anything, I think it was rather obvious that she just wasn't cut out for this game."