Frangelica sighed. Underground. It was of course coming down to going underground. There would be spiders, naturally, so she knew immediately her only option was full body coverage. She would also need to be sleek, keep it simple, for maximum maneuverability and speed. Not the worst thing ever, but irritating. She could pull that together pretty reasonably, and while she knew she'd be sweating in the hot Israeli climate, it was worth it.
Later that evening, Frangelica made her way down the path of the above ground Western Wall, centering herself before the descent. She had adjustable night vision/infrared/blacklight goggles tucked under her arm, a logical accessory, as well as a hammer, which had been a more impulsive choice. It wasn't exactly a high tech paper location device. She still couldn't quite put her finger on why she thought it might be useful, after all it wasn't like she was taking the wall down, just locating a small slip of paper on it. Still, it comforted her to have it.
As she walked, she noticed market stands clustered in some areas, catering to tourists. She wouldn't have given them a second thought except that a stall filled with fluttery movement caught her eye - fans. Suddenly she knew how she would find her paper. She hurried over and purchased one, a delightfully gaudy flowered monstrosity that only folded together half way before the paper strained and threatened to tear.
Sauntering down the passage to where their challenge was, Frangelica felt pretty good about her odds. She stopped at the beginning of the expanse of masonry, slipped on her goggles, and commenced frantically waving her fan. For some time, she made her way methodically along, blowing dust and small pebbles off the wall but no paper. Finally, it happened - the blowing air moved a small, pale object, and Frangelica saw it - a slip of paper. And it was way up the wall, several feet above her head. Fabulous. She jumped at it to no avail, her arm didn't even come close to reaching. Of course the damn thing would be placed in an impossible to reach crack.
She took a running leap at the wall in hopes of launching herself higher, and instead the hammer slipped out from under her arm and banged her knee on the way down. She yowled and sat on the ground nursing her rapidly forming bruise for a moment, and, secretly, feeling a little bit sorry for herself. Then it hit her, in a less literal sense. She straightened up, took several steps back, and ran full tilt at the wall. She took several steps up it, then smashed the claw end of the hammer in to the stones, lodging it in the mortar and swinging her body up from it. It worked! She snapped the piece of paper out of the wall, let out a triumphant yodel, then fell unceremoniously to the ground.
She lay there clutching the paper and panting for a moment, then finally composed herself and examined the crumpled paper in her hand. Huh, completely flat. She unfolded it and found her key - not a key at all, a card with flashing encrypted codes. She chuckled, and realized how silly it had been to expect an old fashioned key to open a secure vault.
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Frangelica stood in the trailer, completely surrounded by clothes. The host wasn't kidding when he said that they'd have all their clothes - she was sure that she had never even seen some of these before, let alone had them in her posession. Probably another cute twist from their lovely host.
Still, it didn't help her in choosing. Should she go for the 'spy' vibe, really camp up the theme of the competition? Dress for a fancy awards show, in anticipation of accepting the grand prize? Assemble what she'd worn for the past challenges and cherry pick from those outfits?
A slight rumble in her stomach signaled...something. Somehow she hadn't felt it until this moment, but now it was undeniable. She was nervous. She'd come so far, felt she'd done quite well along the way, but what did that matter here at the finish line?
For a moment Frangelica considered curling up in a ball and using something in here as a security blanket, perhaps that leather catsuit over there. But then she spied something pink and white and worn poking out from under a pile of outfits - a shoe. She knew then that the way to press through was to dress as herself, comfortable, no frills, and ready for anything.
XX
