Ghost Station Part 8

The Network Within The Network

The Five Fifteen

Sep 09, 2025

1 Benny

7 PM

June 23, 1961

417 Front Street, Beaufort, NC, USA

Benny managed to get in touch with his wife, and all he had to do was say Maryanne Tolbert was staying alone while her parents were out of town for Missy Jones to insist the poor girl come to supper at their home.

Missy even extended an invitation for Maryanne to spend the night.

"What were Ed and Martha thinking by leaving her all alone?"

She's an adult, he thought, not daring to give his wife any indication what was going on in his mind.

And even though I had every intention of eating in town and getting to bed early, Missy wouldn't let me go a whole night without a decent meal.

It was small town sensibility, and I didn't realize how much I missed it.

That's how I found myself at the Jones's dinner table that night. I enjoyed a fantastic home cooked meal, nice conversation, and the added benefit of a phone call from the last person on earth I expected to hear from.

Being a Friday, Missy served fish—flounder—and mashed potatoes.

"Mr. Radford, Ben tells me you've been working out of Berlin," she said, as she passed me the pitcher of sweet tea.

"Please, please call me Bill. But you're absolutely right."

"Sounds exotic, maybe a little scary," she said.

I wasn't convinced she was buying a hundred percent of my story; one thing was certain, Missy Jones was just as sharp as her husband; maybe sharper.

"What's it like living in a city that has literally been chopped in half?"

"It's hard to know who to trust." It was a truthful answer. "It's the main reason I decided to move back stateside."

The second part of my answer was far less truthful, although I was starting to wonder about my teaching job at Duke. There had been an explosion—complete with bodies. It had not made the papers. Not even a mention.

Still, I wondered just how welcome I would be on campus. The same went for the agency. There was no one I could completely trust but my handler, Alex Taylor; reaching out to him, though, would be a mistake. No doubt they were watching him closely to see if I surfaced.

I was rogue in every sense of the word. The good news—and it was good—was that I had a nice stash of cash. It wasn't endless; but was substantial enough to get me around the country.

Being the perfect Southern hostess, Missy did not leave Maryanne out of the conversation. "How was your first year at State?"

"It was really good. I love my classes. My new friends." Her smile was genuine, but her voice was subdued, and then trailed off when she mentioned friends.

Maryanne was doing the best she could under the circumstances. Benny and I had asked her not to bring up Amy around anyone else. We didn't know who might be listening.

Call me paranoid, but given the last week, I had every reason to be.

2 Hardy

Evening

June 5, 1958

15 Mott Street Chinatown, NYC, USA

Normally after such a big win, Richard Hardy would celebrate with a cigar and glass of whiskey, but he was too dumbfounded to even move from his office chair.

Amy Brand had made the prostitute cut herself so badly that she had nearly passed out from blood loss. The wretch would have bled all over his Oriental rug if not for the quick actions of Brenda, who was proving herself to be far more than any simple nurse.

Brenda had expertly guided the woman into the hallway, and he assumed out into the streets where she belonged. The wound would heal, eventually. And the woman would be back out selling herself in no time.

He loved New York City for the never ending supply of riffraff populating the streets. Brenda had been absolutely brilliant in finding the woman, promising plenty more where she came from.

But Brenda didn't see the big picture; that was his job, which was why he found himself mesmerized. So captivated he was almost unable to move. A dollop of LSD and the patient's mind opened up, making room for the suggestions Amy provided.

The girl had skills even without plying the targets with hallucinogenics, but could she eventually control a drug free mind?

Maybe someday those skills would grow. For the time being, he had far more than he had ever expected. And it really wasn't that hard to spike the drink of anyone they wished to control.

The only question he had was why couldn't she penetrate his mind?

He wasn't naive enough to believe it was because he possessed a stronger mind than others—although he knew he did. It had to be something else.

Nevertheless, the girl was performing, and that was all that mattered to him. She was his ticket back into the agency; respectability.

They had fired him, and some of them even tried to prosecute him for the studies he had performed before obtaining Amy. Now, he was going to show them how wrong they had been.

And if he was being honest with himself—which happened from time to time—he would get them back for how much they had hurt him. Hardy had given his country everything he had, and been repaid with humiliation.

So, the top dogs might think he was going to share Amy Brand with them, but he had already decided to break that part of the agreement. They would provide the funding for the next few years, while he molded the girl into the perfect weapon.

Then he would use her to take control of the agency. He might even end up in charge of agencies of more than one country.

He would spend the time to learn how to control her. She was young. Time was on his side.

Keeping the team small was important. Brenda could handle what he needed done, so he didn't need to bring anyone else in. Sully was gone—off the face of the planet.

Good riddance.

If the girl somehow got into Brenda's mind, Hardy would use his newest insurance policy on her—this particular policy was a .22 caliber pistol he now kept with him at all times.

One shot to the temple and Brenda would be eliminated.

He hoped it wouldn't come to that. She was an excellent asset to his team.

3 Amy

5PM EST

June 23, 1961

15 Mott Street Chinatown, NYC, USA

Galina seemed to be stronger and more alert, giving Amy more confidence that her plan was working. It was a plan she had been working for the past three years.

After that awful night when the doctor had forced her to make the woman stab herself in the palm, Amy had paid close attention to every sound—every word spoken in the house—in order to understand exactly how she was being used.

Surprisingly, she had learned a lot. They were using a strong drug on the people she had to hurt. But she realized something the doctor did not understand.

The drug might help her to make people hurt and kill, but she still had abilities without any help—as long as she could remember.

For instance, she had always been able to influence certain people; most of her teachers fell into this bucket. Although she was a good student, she had at least once used her mind to have a grade changed from a B to an A.

The guilt, though, had been so tremendous, she never tried anything like that again.

Her parents were never affected, and neither was Maryanne Tolbert. Maybe that was the reason she liked Maryanne so much—since she couldn't use her mind to make her be Amy's friend, Amy was stuck with the fact that they really were friends.

The same went for her parents, whose love she never had to question.

It had been about that time that the little voice had started to talk to her. At first, it asked her to do little things—like the grade change. But the voice quickly started to ask her to do worse and worse things, always claiming it was only what was best for her.

Amy's moral compass—something she would not have really understood—constantly pointed North. She refused to hurt anyone; that is, until the doctor threatened her family.

For Amy, Dr. Hardy had committed an unforgivable sin. And she was going to pay him back; in spades—as her dad used to say.

Knowing the doctor's mind was like a brick wall, Amy concentrated on Brenda.

At first, the commands were simple.

Treat me nice, but tell the doctor I've been acting up and you had to punish me.

Tell him you slapped me.

She knew it had worked because the doctor had slipped into her room soon after and asked how Brenda was treating her.

"She's been nicer to me," Amy had said. The key was keeping Brenda around, because Brenda was the weak link.

And for the past day Amy had been telling Brenda to lower the dosage of the drugs going into Galina's arm.

Amy was one step closer to freedom. One step closer to causing Dr. Hardy the worst pain he had ever experienced.

Before it was over, she vowed he would beg her to kill him.

4 Galina

8PM EST

June 23, 1961

15 Mott Street Chinatown, NYC, USA

"Make sure you act drugged up around the doctor," Amy said. She and Galina had been having a somewhat stilted conversation for the past several hours.

Even though Galina spoke English well, she was obviously not used to talking to a young American not yet out of her teens. And she certainly had no experience communicating telepathically.

And Amy had spent so much time alone she had a tough time engaging in normal conversation—sometimes remaining perfectly quiet for up to thirty minutes, only to start a rapid-fire bombard of thoughts about anything and everything.

It was still better than being alone. And she couldn't help but feel bad for the girl, who had seemingly had a normal small town life until she was thrown into the trunk of a car and held prisoner for three years—forced to do awful things to ensure the safety of her parents.

The government she had spied on had been guilty of awful crimes against humanity, but what Amy had been through seemed worse.

By now, Galina was sure she was there because of the information in her head. And she was sure her captors would soon start to torture her in order to make her give up everything she knew.

And who were these people who were holding them prisoners? Clearly, the doctor and nurse were American. But the neighborhood had a lot of Chinese speaking people.

"Get the nurse to tell us where we are."

"Yeah," Amy said. "I never ever thought of that."

After the way Amy had been treated, Galina couldn't blame her for not thinking of everything. Maybe between the two of them there was a chance at freedom.

It was now very late, and Galina was worn out. She fell asleep to the echoes of Amy's voice in her head.

5 Benny

8:30 PM EST

June 23, 1961

417 Front Street, Beaufort, NC, USA

Now, Cupid

Don't you hear me calling you?

I need you

Cupid, help me, I need you

Cupid, don't fail me 'cause I need you

Sam Cooke

In my dream, I was in a restaurant in lower Manhattan, and a juke box was playing a song that wouldn't be released until 1961.

Karen and Crystal were there with me; very much still alive.

A warm breeze blew hot coal and ashes into my eyes, blinding me.

The heat from the cigarette burning down to my fingers jolted me awake, forcing me to sit up straight. For a moment, I was completely disorganized.

Benny was smoking his pipe sitting in the rocking chair beside me. He didn't seem fazed at all, as he looked across the dark front porch at what must have been a wild look on my face.

I don't think he noticed I had fallen asleep.

"Sorry," I said. "Must have drifted off."

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah." I lit another cigarette I didn't want or need.

"You see much action?" He assumed I was suffering from combat memories. Fair enough, but my nightmares came from things my fellow countrymen had done to me.

"Not during the war. Got there after the surrender."

"They say after the war is when it really got crazy."

"The Russians took what happened at Leningrad out on the Germans. Held the women and children accountable. I think every woman between the ages of twelve and sixty got raped at least once."

"I read some of the accounts," Benny said. "You think Ike was right to hold back our boys, and let the Russians take Berlin?"

"Can't say I blamed him. He was getting sick of losing so many of our boys. But, having met the Russians, I can't say Patton was wrong for wanting to stop them."

Then Benny shifted the conversation back to the topic of the day: Amy Brand.

"She's really alive?"

"Yes." Long pause as I focused. "The man who Amy sketched is a CIA agent. Not one of the good guys."

"You're not making sense."

"His name is Richard Hardy. The man in Maryanne's sketch. He's a psychologist who went to work for the agency so they would fund his insane ideas about mind control."

"Wait one second, you're telling me the United States Central Intelligence Agency is behind Amy's disappearance?"

"Yes. I thought they had stopped. Richard Hardy dropped off the face of the earth when I exposed him."

"At some point I'll probably want to know how you know what you know. For the time being, I'm happy to play some part in bringing that little girl home."

"Fair enough," I said. "But I have to warn you that she's spent three years in God only know what kind of conditions."

A moment later, Missy stuck her head out the door.

"You two okay out here?"

From inside, the phone rang.

"Probably for me," Benny said.

Missy sat in the rocker Benny had just occupied. "Bill, you look like you haven't slept right in forever. We have plenty of room, as long as you don't mind a sofa. Maryanne is staying in the guest bedroom."

"Thank you, ma'am, but I couldn't put you out."

"Nonsense, and if I can't call you mister, you better start calling me Missy." She laughed.

"I have a room... "

Benny stepped back out onto the porch. "Okay, there's a man with a definite German accent on the phone. Asked to speak to his dinner buddy, the Master Detective."

I started to stand. "It's a source." I really wasn't lying. But I wasn't in a position to explain why a strange foreigner who was looking for me knew to call them. "I gave him your number in case he needed to contact me. I didn't expect it to be so soon."

Excusing myself, I went into the kitchen and put the receiver up to my ear. "This is Bill."

"Bill, there's a certain number that only a ghost would know."

Yes, I was talking with Viktor Brenner.

6 Viktor

June 23, 1961

Undisclosed location, East Berlin, DDR

"You know who this is." The voice crackled as it chuckled.

"I do."

"Good, now listen to me very carefully. This line has NOT yet been bugged, but the surveillance is very heavy."

"What are you talking about?" I knew exactly what he was talking about, but I honestly thought I was in the black.

"Think about it. If I can locate you and call you, so can anyone else who wants to find you."

My grip was so tight I was afraid I might crack the receiver. My hand was starting to hurt, but I felt powerless to ease up.

It was time to get it together.

Viktor continued. "The girl, Maryanne, Dragon Eyes's friend, is now seen as a problem. They've searched her parent's home. They found the sketch."

"The what?"

"No time to pretend it doesn't exist, because it does. And all the wrong people know about it."

My entire body was now on high alert, and it was true—I had allowed myself to get lazy for just a moment; disaster. "Okay, you're telling me this for a reason."

"You need to get everyone outside. Have them ready to go."

"Just where are we going?"

"There will be instructions."

It should have been no surprise he had tracked me down, but I still felt the ground moving under me. I didn't like not being able to anticipate what was getting ready to happen.

The entire day had been one shock after the other.

"Time is working against you, Yellow. Don't let me down."

"Why are you helping?"

"They don't want to kill you just yet. But they will torture and eliminate every person you meet along the way. Don't you think it's time to reduce the body count?"

"The girl, Maryanne, isn't going to leave until her parents get home."

"I have people keeping an eye on them. They are safe, for now."

I didn't care for the way he said for now, but there seemed to be little choice in the matter. No time for indecision.

Seemingly reading my mind, he pressed me into action. "Go right now."

Loose ends popped back into my mind. Richard Hardy was getting rid of every one of them.

7 Amy

8:35PM EST

June 23, 1961

15 Mott Street Chinatown, NYC, USA

In her dream, Amy was breaking into an old style home. She climbed through a window, and in. There were voices coming from the kitchen; someone was on the telephone.

Passing a mirror, she saw her sixteen-year-old self. A person she barely recognized.

Entering the dining room, Amy saw a woman looking out a window, into the back yard, which looked out onto the water.

Something about her was familiar. Amy could simply reach out, and the woman would turn.

Who was it?

Amy was terrified to find out.

Then she woke up, shaking. Her head was pounding.

Things were wrong, wrong, wrong.

What is happening to me?

"Wouldn't you like to know?" It was the little voice, back again.

8 Benny

8:38PM EST

June 23, 1961

417 Front Street, Beaufort, NC, USA

Since the incident at Duke with Ernest, my .380 Walther PPK had gone everywhere with me, tucked away in a cutaway area of the inside of my suit jacket. And I was now glad I had it with me.

One deep breath later I asked to have a moment alone with Benny. Missy disappeared back into the house to find Maryanne.

"What's going on?" Benny asked, as he relit his pipe.

Sitting down, pulling out yet another cigarette, buying a moment to make sure my thoughts were in order.

Before I could speak, Benny sat down too. "You need to be on the up and up. Is my wife in danger?"

"Very much so," I said. Then I added, "we all are."

9 Maryanne

8:40PM EST

June 23, 1961

417 Front Street, Beaufort, NC, USA

Missy found Maryanne staring out the window in the dining room. She was hugging herself like she was cold.

"You okay, Mary?"

"I don't really know. I thought someone was just watching me." She sighed. "It's been a long day."

"The men are talking outside."

"About what?"

"I have no idea, but I have a feeling our reporter friend is hiding something."

A moment later, Benny burst through the front door, yelling. "Missy, get Maryanne. We're leaving."

Missy's face was ice. "See? Told you."

"Is there time to pack a light bag?" Missy asked as Benny entered the room. He had gone an interesting shade of pale, and was taking his keys and wallet off a corner table where he had stored them.

"No, I'm afraid not."

I was behind him, feeling awful for ruining the night. "Missy, Maryanne, I'm sorry."

"What kind of danger are we in?"

Maryanne wasn't convinced she should be leaving with us. "I should wait for my parents. They'll be home next week."

"Not after the story you shared with us," Benny said to Maryanne. Then he turned to Missy. "Could be a lot of trouble." He went to the stairs. "I need to check a couple of things."

I guessed one of those things would be a gun.

Smart man.

We would likely end up needing it.

I had just met these people. Liked them, a lot. Keeping them safe was a top priority.

"Does this have anything to do with Amy?" Maryanne asked.

"It has everything to do with her."

"Little Amy Brand?" Missy asked. "What does she have to do with us needing to leave?"

10 Viktor

8:45PM EST

June 23, 1961

Undisclosed location, East Berlin, DDR

It was time to move. For far too long, Viktor Brenner had stayed safe in the shadow of a foreign government, now things were changing. He had heard some rumors, and if they were true, he could end up trapped here for eternity.

The East Germans were going to do the unthinkable and barricade themselves off from the rest of the Western world. How that was going to look in practice was anyone's guess.

Viktor had thoughts. It was no secret that untold thousands had walked over the border. The DDR was going to need to get even more heavy handed. He was already being given the green light to take out anyone trying to escape.

Despite what his cover story said, he was never going to kill people for trying to walk into freedom.

For as much as he resented being left in the cold, he understood that politics had played a huge part in things; notably, Richard Hardy had been allowed his freedom after the stuff he did to mostly children. It wasn't much different than what Josef Mengele had done to Jewish prisoners.

And the agency had covered it up.

Why?

Because they realized that Hardy was on to something big. But that didn't explain all the bad blood between the two men. Hardy had bought his way into the good graces of the Japanese by burning Viktor.

Why wasn't anything done to Hardy then? Because the Japanese were working on their own brand of torture. And if there was one thing Richard Hardy wanted to be near, it was torture.

The pervert loved it. Would do anything to be in the same space as the worst butchers on earth.

So, Viktor was the one who nearly died in the Japanese POW camp, which was more like a shop of horrors than anything an actual human would design.

His first order of business had remained the same for over a decade. Snap Richard Hardy's neck at the first opportunity.

Now that Hardy had exposed himself with yet another child, it was only a matter of time before the neck snapping began.

There was, however, one more thing Viktor needed that night. Morehead City and Beaufort had turn into spy central. One could probably throw a stone in any direction and hit someone watching every move Charlie Cross made.

Still, he was a step ahead of everyone else. After the double-cross that had landed him in a Japanese POW camp, he had vowed to never get caught with his pants down like that again. Every friend he had was a carefully cultivated source who was in his debt in one way or another.

He was able to be my benefactor without my ever suspecting a thing. When he learned who was behind killing my family, he had become an expert on Charlie Cross. Viktor Brenner knew more about me than I did.

For him it was a simple business exchange. He would lead me to the ones who had killed my wife and daughter, which in turn would give him the heads of those who had betrayed him. They were all related.

To do this he had built a complex network right under the noses of what was supposedly the most powerful intelligence gathering agency in the world; and he planned to use it against them.

Picking up his phone one more time, he called someone about forty minutes up the road from Beaufort.

Captain Brent Willis, United States Marine Corps, Cherry Point, picked up on the first ring. "We a go?"

"Most assuredly," Viktor said. "They ready?"

"Affirmative."

The captain owed him a huge favor. And this request would start the repayment process.