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‘See you later,
if anyone wants me, I’ll be in Poland.’

Adam appeared
to be absorbing the moment in the most hyperactive way possible,
failing completely to abate his momentum from the decent of the
stairs. Fortunately the front door was open or else there would
have been a nasty collision, a smashed front door and another spell
in hospital.

‘Adam, when I
said an accent, I didn’t mean foreign.’

Adam was well
out of earshot before Jenny had finished her sentence. Adam was on
a mission, blinkered and impetuous. Only common sense would have
stopped him in his tracks but he hadn’t any time for that.

Chapter 5: A
Polish interrogation

Adam soon found
himself standing on Polish soil, Warsaw’s to be precise.

In actual fact,
Madeline had been taken to a place somewhere in Cheshire which, as
most people know, is in England not Poland. The place happened to
be Capesdown Hall – a huge Jacobean mansion in several acres of
grounds containing wild dear, sheep and many security guards. It
wasn’t widely known but rumours had it that Capesdown hall was used
exclusively by the government - MI 5 or 6 or 7 or something. The
number didn’t particularly matter – what did matter was what went
on inside, behind the bland red brick walls and obscured glass
windows.

It would have
been sensible to find a nice hotel and sit tight until he had a
call from Barnton but Adam was impetuous, Adam was Adam. No harm in
asking around, he thought and where better than a salt of the
earth, good old Polish beer halls. Of course he had nothing to go
on, he could barely speak the language and the only spending power
he had was through a credit card with a woman’s name on it.

Maybe it was
this fact or the unusual question he asked the numerous barmen
which roughly translated as this; ‘I would like to find two men
with an attractive woman?’ Which ever it was, he found himself very
swiftly in a police cell awaiting interrogation.

‘Damn, damn and
bollocks’, he shouted out loud in his small dimly lit cell. Once
again he had cocked it up and this time he worryingly knew
absolutely no one was at hand to rescue him. Of course it was even
worse than this because his mobile phone and credit card had been
retained for evidence. ‘Damn, damn, damn and bollocks’, he
pathetically repeated.

To get burnt
alive to within an inch of your life is terribly unfortunate but
then, a few months later to be boiled like a cabbage really is the
pits. Poppy was alive – remarkably, her heart was as strong as
Gorilla glass and her constitution was undaunted. However she was
unconscious and had been for several days. They say that beauty is
only skin deep and that is the only consolation that could be
offered. Hopefully though, she would never be in a position to see
what an awful state her skin was in.

The electronics
surrounding her were relatively unaffected and took little to get
up and running. Madeline had, in fact, a fully functioning GPS
system within her frame. This was something Barton had completely
overlooked. Why she had GPS was simply because she had a little
spare space in her skull and what better to fill it with than the
useful functions out of a smart phone. Not only did she have GPS
but also WIFI, Bluetooth, accelerometer, FM radio, MP3 player,
camera, etc, etc. None of these applications had as yet been used
but with a few software commands could easily be brought into
use.

As it happened,
the very same moment Barton decided to ring Adam, he was being
interrogated by two members of the Polish special police. This was
a stroke of luck because they were in an ideal situation to hand
the phone over to Adam to answer.

‘Adam, good
news! Well good news and bad I suppose, I’ve located Madeline with
her GPS, where are you?’ chirped Barton.

‘Well, believe
it or not, hah! at this very moment I’m being interrogated by two
nice guys in Warsaw police station...’ said Adam sheepishly.

‘Poland eh?
Well you certainly never cease to amaze me. As best as I can work
out, Madeline is at a place called Capesdown Hall, Cheshire. That’s
Cheshire, I’m pretty sure that’s not in Poland.’

‘Right, right,
you’ve made your point; Capesdown Hall, never heard of it?’

‘Let me know
when you get there,’ said Barton curtly.

It would never
be said that Barton was loosing his patience with Adam but when his
sentences were short and precise, it was a clear indication of
incredulity. Adam sensed the despair in his voice - it was the
worst form of bollocking he could possibly get.

Fortunately the
two policemen interrogating Adam could speak a modicum of queens
English so it wasn’t long before Adam had successfully conveyed his
slightly embellished version of the facts: He was looking for his
girlfriend, Madeline Bull. He’d been tipped off that two men had
forced her on a plane bound for Poland against her will, so that’s
why he was here. Of course he didn’t have to explain himself, they
knew exactly who he was, the side-kick of the famous Madeline Bull
known throughout the civilised world for her outrageous exploits.
Consequently they had no reason to keep him locked up so gave him
back the credit card with Madeline’s name on it, wished him the
best of luck in his search and let him get on his way.

However, the
Polish police certainly weren’t going to miss an opportunity like
this. They decided to join in with all the rest who were discretely
following Adam across Europe. The reason why Adam was attracting so
much interest was wholly to do with Madeline. Realistically, no one
was really interested in the strange antics of her impetuous boy
friend, it was just that, put cruelly, more often than not the
wagging tail would inevitably find the dog.

The problem
when too many people try to follow you discreetly is that they
become blatantly indiscreet; Adam couldn’t fail to notice the
commotion going on in his shadows.

Chapter 6:
Infamous Madeline Bull

Back in
Evesham, England, in a burnt out cow shed, three geniuses pondered
productively over Poppy’s parched pelt. Finally they all agreed it
was time for activation. They had decided to use one of Dean Hake’s
suggestions, a gel suit around Poppy’s body instead of floating her
in saline. The gel suit made the process of reconnecting the
sensors back on Poppy’s charred skin easier, quicker and more
secure. Poppy would also have less pain to contend with when moving
around in her tank.

It had taken
three whole days with very little rest time to get to this stage.
The lid on the tank was once again, bolted down and Poppy was
isolated from the real world. Only the relayed senses from Madeline
Bull, the incredible android machine would now be experienced by
Poppy’s entombed body. Alexander clicked the button on the computer
mouse a few times, crossed his fingers and then, for no apparent
reason, took a few steps back.

Little pumps
whirred into action and slowly the correct amount of drug solutions
flowed along plastic pipes in to the side of the tank and on into
Poppy’s veins.

The room was
virtually silent, the wall mounted TV in the distance was playing
to itself – some kind of commotion outside a high security prison
on a News channel but no sound, that had been turned down days ago.
The three scientist stood still and silent, hardly breathing,
hoping to hear somekind of response from Poppy through the small
monitor speakers on the wall.

‘She should be
stirring by now,’ said Barton.

‘Poppy... Can
you hear me? It’s Barnton.’ there was no response.

‘Administering
5 cc of adrenalin.’ commented Hake as he twisted a small valve on a
plastic tube.

After a few
seconds, the PC monitor indicated faint impulses from her muscles,
she was awake.

‘Poppy, Poppy,
can you hear me? You will feel disorientated for a while but it
should pass.’

‘Where… am I?
Are you… God? Is this heaven?’ Poppy’s voice was weak and
slurred.

‘No it’s Barton
and South Wales.’

‘I see,
definitely hell then!’

‘Still got your
humour then, I see.’

‘And who am I
going to be this time? Still Madeline or have I had a sex change?’
Poppy’s voice was getting stronger all the time.

Barton ignored
her comment. The reason Madeline was indeed a woman and a
stunningly gorgeous one with sex oozing out of every crease was
done for a reason. She was the ultimate Honey trap. With this asset
she could extract more out of most people (men) than a man with a
tuxedo filled with an arsenal of weapons and torture devices.

‘Your video and
audio circuits aren’t patched through yet, sorry about the blue
screens. You’re very weak, you won’t be able to operate the system
yet, you need rest.’

‘Rest? How long
have I been asleep?’

‘Four
days.’

‘Four days and
I still need rest? Turn the gain up or something!’

‘Poppy you
don’t know what has happened to you.’

‘Yes I do, I
was poached!’

‘Your skin is
very fragile, we’ve had to place you body in a gel suit to hold it
together. The gel suit is impregnated with a cocktail of steroids
and cortisones which should eventually toughen up your skin but
until then, movement will be painful.’

‘So, you think
I’m not used to living with pain then, eh?’

Barton clicked
the button on his cordless optical mouse a few more times and Poppy
was fully connected to Madeline. He knew it was too soon.

Life was
suddenly thrust upon her again. Once more she was beautiful again;
once more she was restrained, strapped to a table – no change there
then, she thought!

‘Bye the way,
thought you ought to know, you’re in Cheshire, a place called
Capesdown hall’, said Barton. ‘We think it’s some kind of
government department.’

Before it had
taken weeks to shake off the reality of being in a tank and
remotely controlling the Madeline Bull android, now though, the
transition only took a few moments - then she was convinced she was
inside the head of Madeline. Despite her obvious predicament - pain
and discomfort, it was still wonderful. Not, however as wonderful
as her dream or whatever it was when she was back as Poppy,
paddling in that stream with Adam by her side.

She thought
about that dream, it was so, so real. Everything made sense;
Wardate was Ward 8 - the ward she was in, in hospital. Most of the
people in her dream were nurses, doctors and patients in the
hospital. The names of the people she had to kill, Ray de Part for
instance turned out to be a portion of the sign ‘X-
ray
depart
ment’ she could see through the partly opened door. It
had to be a dream because in it, her body had fully recovered and
was perfect again. Not possible, burns like that don’t heal that
well, especially with the severity of
her
frazzled frame.
No, now was reality, surely, Madeline was reality. Yes, she was
beautiful and sexy, even more so than her own Poppy body used to be
but... it was an artificial world. True, now it took a moderate
amount of concentration to even imagine herself as a burnt husk of
a human being but that’s what she was. Perhaps this was because her
subconscious was in denial. It was, afterall, a thought that was
permanently avoided like the plague. Her new Madeline body felt as
real as could be, she was Madeline Bull again!

Madeline
looked around as best she could whilst strapped down tightly on an
operating table, trolley, whatever it was. She was obviously in an
old period building: tall ceilings with elaborate plaster
cornicing, a large heavy door with antique polished brass fittings
and a large Georgian window complete with the internal shutters. It
reminded her too much of her old dentist’s waiting room.

She was alone
in the room. Being inactive for several days, the fascination of
what was lying there, had faded somewhat. She was still intact, no
arms or legs missing – this was a good thing. Her head hadn’t been
shaved and all her clothes were still covering her up, not
scattered on the floor – this was also a good thing.

‘Hello!’ she
shouted.

It was a weak
shout but would improve as time went by.

‘Hello! Anyone
there!’

Her voice was
getting louder.

‘I said...
Hello!!’

Her voice was
back with vengeance.

And then in
came a young well dressed man.

‘So sorry’, he
said sincerely ‘Almost gave up on you. We’ve been out looking for a
Prince Charming to give you a kiss and wake you up.’

‘Funny ha, ha!
So why the restraints then if you’re so sorry’.

‘Sorry, I can
make you more comfortable if you want... we didn’t want to mislay
you. You took quite a bit of finding. Sorry, Names Pike, Neil… So
you’re the infamous Madeline Bull.

‘Infamous…
surely famous?’

‘Sorry,
yes.’

Pike took out
his mobile phone and called someone.

‘It... She’s…
activated... awake, sorry.’

That was it,
Pike had said all he was going to say and Madeline certainly wasn’t
going to encourage him to continue with his apologetic babble.
Within minutes, the door violently flew open and then oozed in,
several suited men and women. One of the suited men broke from the
crowd, older and meaner looking than the rest.

‘Madeline
Bull... well, well.’ said the man.

‘Yes... I am
this person lying here, tied up,’

‘Sorry, I’m
Nuttall, Brian Nuttall.’

‘Good God, why
are you all so damn insincerely apologetic!?’

They had all
heard of this amazing feisty android called Madeline Bull and now
they were experiencing this remarkable feistiness first hand. They
smiled at each other and desperately wanted her autograph but knew
it would be completely unprofessional. They wanted to touch and
fondle her… again, but now she was awake she might zap them with
some secret weapon they didn’t know about. Her fart gas was
legendary as was her laser finger but who knows what else she had
in her arsenal.