Cordell is a chess master. He is also a hit man, but conventional law enforcement just can't prove it. More importantly, they don't have a clue who he is working for. Someone else needs to take over. The IMF, as always, chooses to accept the mission.

They convince him he is going crazy and try to trick him into giving away the name of his boss.

Occasionally in the series, there is a chessboard present in Jim's swanky apartment. He gets to use his knowledge of the game in this story. (With Barney's technical wizardry present to help him cheat.)

Since I have, over the course of my life, had an on again off again obsession with this game, this episode was of particular interest to me. Unfortunately, any problems involving chess get magnified in my eyes.

Barney's computer program can allegedly solve any computer program. This was, what? 1972 or so?

In 1985, I was lucky enough to meet Harry Nelson, one of the programmers of Cray Blitz, which was, at the time, the best computer chess software on the planet. I was a mildly precocious high school student who was good at the game. I was undefeated in interscholastic play, but I was FAR from a master chess player. Cordell probably could have beaten me. Mr. Nelson let me play against the program. The first time I played, I was soundly defeated. The second game was a little more competitive, but I was once again defeated. In the third game, I accidentally discovered that the program was not designed to properly take advantage of a passed pawn and managed to squeak out a win.

I can safely say that there was no computer program in 1972 that would be able to defeat an alleged chess master like Cordell. I decided to let that slip. Barney is just a flat out genius and none of his inventions ever made it to the public. He could have been wealthy beyond his wildest dreams but instead squandered his talents on bolstering national security and fighting crime. My hat's off to him.

When Phelps and Cordell are playing chess, they contemplate their moves before making them. This is fine. EXCEPT when they do that on opening moves. Real chess players, especially when a clock is present, play the opening moves very fast. Both players know the openings and won't waste time or effort doing any thinking. I guess the director thought it was more dramatic so have the players take their time. It just bugs me.

At the end, we learn that the secret code between Cordell and his boss is something to the effect of "In the 1892 chess championship, Steinitz defeated Chigorin in 29 moves. What was the winning move?" That's nice, but the game was only 28 moves. And then the winning move in the episode was Q-B4. NO!!!! The winning (28th) move was Q-Q4+ followed by Chigorin's resignation. Stuff like this shouldn't bother me, but it did.

But-- this may not have been an accident. I took a look at the game again. If Chigorin had not resigned, he would have had only one legal move. If Steinitz then played (on the 29th move) Q-B4, it would have been check mate. So my feelings for the writing went from contempt to admiration.

Finally, I have to give kudos to the episode for implying that playing too much chess can drive a person crazy. I can write pages of semi-coherent stories about the game and how it rewired my brain so that it isn't quite right. I'll spare the reader, though.

I give this episode an A+. I thoroughly enjoyed it.

Maybe next I will watch The Thomas Crown Affair (the original Steve McQueen/Faye Dunaway version) and From Russia with Love. ("Quit pausing this part," says my wife, "I want to see Sean Connery.")