Lighthouse Landmines Novels & Stories

Large gray silhouettes emerged from the fog. Military ships. Coast Guard vessels. Helicopters filled the sky. Searchlights locked onto the lighthouse. Luca laughed in disbelief. "You called the navy?" Elena smiled. "No." "I called everyone." She held up her phone. Moments before entering the lighthouse... She had activated the Hart Emergency Protocol. Richard had programmed one final safeguard. Whenever the lighthouse beacon was activated... Every international agency Richard had trusted would receive its exact location. The beacon wasn't a symbol.

“Yeah. There were two other guys and four other ladies including America.” “That’s weird.” I hear William speak as he continues to focus on his phone. “There’s absolutely no result for that island. Nothing.” “I told you. It’s a mysterious island but I am a living proof that it’s real.” I responded William. “Why do you think it doesn’t exist here?” Liv asks, he sounded serious now. “From my dream, I remember how the people on that island mentioned that there was a cursed lighthouse somewhere.” I continued, “The said lighthouse is completely invisible and it holds all of the people’s memories who have left LUAHU.”

Nate obeyed. Fredrick’s diamond farm was heavily guarded by chain-link electric fences manned by strong muscular men. The news around the town was the fences were always powered, ready to incinerate any unwelcomed visitors. There was a 12-hour rotation of guards who watched the workers from watch towers, making sure none of the workers tried to steal from the farm. Beneath the finely ground white sand of the beach were landmines designated to explode if a worker tried to steal diamonds and make a run for it. If the landmines weren’t effective, the shark-infested water beyond it was sure to be the end of the thief as that was the only means of escape.

As we broke through the treeline, the world suddenly opened up. We were standing on the summit of a towering cliff, the highest point on his mother’s private island. The view was staggering. Below us, the turquoise waters of the cove deepened into a dark, royal blue as the ocean stretched toward the horizon. From this height, the neighboring islands looked like emeralds scattered across a sheet of glass, their white-sand shores glowing in the fading light. But the centerpiece was the lighthouse. It sat at the very edge of the precipice, a sturdy, white-washed tower that had clearly stood against a century of storms. Its glass lantern house caught the first golden-orange rays of the descendin

Liam POV ​The coordinates do not lead to a sci-fi base. They lead to a decommissioned lighthouse on a private island off the coast of Maine. It is a place of salt, rotting wood, and cold stone. It is a place for a quiet murder, not a global takeover. ​I push the boat toward the rocky shore. The waves hit the hull with a heavy thud. The engine hums. My heart is a faster rhythm. ​Eleanor has my mother. My mother is a woman who loves gardens and old books. She does not belong in this damp, gray hell.

One by one, the red sensor lights of the drones swept over their viewport, searching for the heat of a living crew. Elara held her breath. Beside her, she could hear the rapid, shallow breathing of Jun. They were "ghosts" again, hiding in a trench at the bottom of the world. Suddenly, a heavy thud vibrated through the hull. Something had landed on top of the sub. "One of the drones," Kazimir whispered, reaching for a heavy pipe-wrench. "It’s attached itself." "It’s not a drone," Mina gasped, looking at her handheld terminal. "It’s a Magnetic Limpet Mine (a bomb that attaches to a ship's hull using magnets, timed to explode or be triggered remotely)."

"It’s a... trap..." Skylar’s pupils contracted into needle-points. She whirled around to face Landon. The man’s grin widened, the chain around his neck cutting a thin red line into his skin as he chuckled. "My clever Little Rose... did you really think the shark tank was my only card?" Before he could finish, a deafening roar erupted from the horizon. Twelve combat helicopters emerged from the darkness of the Pacific night. Their high-intensity searchlights sliced through the mist like twelve glowing swords, pinning the island and everyone on it to the sea. Simultaneously, the underwater minefield surrounding the atoll began to detonate.

Then his eyes caught a weathered, rusty fuel barrel perched beside a stack of netting and rope—a remnant from maintenance crews long gone. His pulse quickened. “The lighthouse is the pivot,” he said, voice low but charged with urgency. “We give Gennaro a reason to think the money’s on the dock, not the Ithaca.” Ethan’s brow furrowed. “You want to burn the dock?” Luca shook his head. “Not the dock. Just a signal. We need him to see smoke and fire before he can think.” He sprinted toward the barrel, careful to keep his body low in the shadows. Each step felt like it dragged against the night itself, each footfall a small thunder against the quiet harbour.

My feet crunched on the smoothed stones of red agate, opaque quartz and pink granite and on the pebbles of cysterine, slate and Torridonian rock, and on the broken scallop, whelk and mussel shells. The tall red-and-white striped finger of the unmanned Headland lighthouse was my only guide, its beam slicing through the shadows of the night like a blade of fire. Flint pebbles crunched crisply under my feet as I walked seaward under a gathering of gulls, which seemed highly indignant at being disturbed at such an ungodly hour.

Near the base of the lighthouse, tucked into a concrete maintenance alcove built into the cliff, a dark metal door hung open. Callan stood in the doorway, a heavy torch in one hand, dragging Tahlia's wheelchair with the other. He looked up at the helicopter, grinned like something had come loose in him, and pulled her backwards into the dark before slamming the hatch shut. A muffled thud rocked the cliffside. Smoke curled from the ventilation grates as the hatch fused shut from the inside. "The old wartime bunker network," Lachlan said, colour draining from his face as he stared down at the smoking hatch. "It runs into the sea caves under the tide line."