Ms. Madison came to slowly. Her head ached, and her mouth was dry. She felt as if she'd been on the bender to end all benders. And she hadn't even touched a drop. What upset her a little was that someone had undressed her to her underclothes - and she'd even thought that she'd avoided that bit, and that was annoying.
"So," she heard a low voice, "you are awake at last."
"No," Ms. Madison groaned. "I'm still fast asleep. You must be hallucinating."
"You have spirit," the voice, that of the cloaked figure, declared admiringly. "That I shall grant you."
"Good." Ms. Madison shot back. "I like to think I can still crack the occasional joke. "Is the Bank of England blowing up?"
"I allowed you to succeed," the man replied. "But you may not be so lucky later, my dear."
The blonde shook her head, smiling wryly. This was all too priceless, and she was going to milk it for all it was worth. This man was giving her enough rope to make a good try and tangle him up.
"In other words," she noted, "you had a reason to keep the bank from blowing up. Maybe you don't actually want a revolution."
"oh, no..." the man chuckled softly. "There you are wrong, my little detective. "I want a revolution, London in flames. And before you ask me who I am, permit me to tell you. I am the Devil."
At which point the man began to laugh wickedly.