Port Haven Sirens Novels & Stories

"Good afternoon Mr. Marset." Seeing Lorenzo's arrival, John Marset immediately waved his hand and told Lorenzo to immediately go into his room. “Come here captain, there are a few things I want to talk to you about the smuggling in Long Beach port, because this port is the largest ports in Los Angeles and are transit points for several ships carrying cargo. While you were on duty, did you find anything odd there?”

Still, Manhattan had its rugged charm, though it was a poor substitute for home. I pushed the thought aside. Nostalgia had no place in my life here. Not with this wedding tightening around my neck like a noose. Sergei’s voice pulled me out of my reprieve. He’s seated on the other side of my desk,tablet in hand, rattling off updates about shipments. I stride to my chair and sink in. “The shipment to the South Boston waterfront is set to leave at midnight,” he said, scrolling through the details.”The port authorities have been handled.”

Hot and windy afternoon. Andaman Port was busy. Standford Universe-3 is approaching Jetty No.4. Russian captain Siemens is instructed by walkie-talkie to prepare for mooring. The ship approaches the jetty. Gangway fixed. It's just past noon. The Captain, chief mate, and chief engineer is very busy on the bridge. Admin Tajuddin prepares the personnel list of who wants to go shopping. On this ship, there is a chance to go shopping for a day or a night while approaching the harbor.

“You think she’s still on our side?” Alex looked down at the Beretta, then at the map on the wall behind it—routes marked, targets circled. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I’ll find out. And if she’s not…” He didn’t finish the sentence. He didn’t need to. Meanwhile – Porto Venere Harbor, 2:00 a.m. The sea slapped against the stone docks in rhythmic fury. A sleek, black yacht floated in the shadows, quiet as a ghost.

In a five-foot sea with sixty-knot gusts coming off the reef, sirens were nothing more than a thin, high-pitched scream that was instantly swallowed by the roar of the Atlantic. Instead, the Coast Guard vessel came through the dark like a mechanical predator—its twin five-hundred-horsepower diesel engines whining in a high, aluminum register as it matched the ragged, single-engine limp of the Bertram. The blue and white strobe lights mounted on its radar arch turned the falling rain into a succession of sharp, electric needles that stabbed through the dark.

Ezra slowed down his car and stared at the coordinates on his cellphone which were flashing, indicating that he had arrived at the right place, according to the point in the coordinates. Outside his car, the ships rocked violently every time a great wave came rolling in from the ocean. Even though it was cold and the wind was blowing very hard, people were seen busy loading their ships with logistical goods that were going to be sent overseas. Trucks carrying cargo began to approach the ship and lined up to enter the lower deck of the ship. Horns blared each time a truck moved on deck to alert other truckers that trucks from outside were starting to enter the ship. Night view of a very busy

“Check the perimeter again! Silas, where the hell are your men?” I scanned the dark catwalks, my eyes tracking his words. Silas was not on the main pier. He was waiting somewhere in the deep shadows, watching the entrance. Suddenly, a massive, deafening roar tore through the entire shipyard space. *HOOOOONNNNKKK! HOOOOONNNNKKK!* The sound was absolutely monstrous, vibrating straight through the metal container beneath my boots and shaking my chest cavity. Up in the control cabin of Crane 4, Henry must have used his remaining, fading strength to slam his body onto the shipyard’s automated foghorns.

After extinguishing Lunatic Asylum, the harbor guard reported an unknown large ship approaching. "It looks like we are gonna attacked!” The harbormaster urged Guard Lim to come quickly, no more than three minutes. His tone was firm and concerned. The harbormaster said the ship's deck was firing cannons into the sky. He guessed it was the work of a group of pirates. But Guard Lim was more worried about the explosion, which might cause sea monsters to rise to the surface.

She felt the Anomalous Chord humming in her chest, a steady, grounding note. "We’re building the house, Xander," she said softly. "But the tide is still rising. We’ve given them a reason to stand together. Now we have to give them the strength to survive the flood." The sonar alarm in the sub-levels chimed again, a deeper, more hollow sound than before. The Skimmers at Pearl Harbor were just the scouts. The **Siren-Class Harbinger** was moving, and she was bringing the weight of the entire Pacific with her.

-Naval Port War Signal Station; controlling ship movements in and out of Harwich Harbour, Stour and Orwell and a remote-control station for defensive minefield in the harbour entrance. On top of the Fort, Observers witnessed and plotted many air raids, German minelaying actions, shipwrecks, and air crashes. Then, in 1944, in a probable false alarm, the Landguard guns opened up on supposed German midget-sub raiders in the harbour entrance. Later that year, Allied landing ships loaded at the former RAF piers just to the north.