Port Haven Sirens Novels & Stories

Amber wakes up and sits upright. “We’ve got some interruption,” Harlow growls. Amber’s heart thumps faster, worried that Alessandro has gotten himself into trouble. “Santino Martino has initiated an attack at the docks, the trading port that you are familiar with, yeah, that one, darling. So, we’ve got no choice but to delay this mission until I put his breath to rest,” Harlow utters.

"They aren't here to arrest us, Soph. If they wanted to arrest us, they would have done it at the apartment at six in the morning with a flash-bang and a camera crew from New York Central. They’re here because they don't know what else to do with the noise." The response boat CG-45312, a high-speed Response Boat-Medium operating out of Station Miami, did not approach The Last Frontier with its sirens blaring. 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.

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.

"So that's his lifeline." Mia looked at the map. "If we destroy it, he'll lose more than supplies." She tapped the warehouse. "He'll lose time." An hour later, three black SUVs rolled silently toward the industrial docks. Rain had finally stopped. The sea was calm. Too calm. Black Harbor stood at the end of Pier Nine, surrounded by rusted shipping containers. Armed guards patrolled the perimeter. Spotlights swept across the water. Marco studied the area through binoculars. "Twenty... maybe twenty-five guards."

Aye aye Sir" The Signal man saluted and began sending out the messages in drum beats and flag wavings. "High Marshall!!Look to the starboard side!!" A lieutenant screamed as he pointed out to the sea. Harold raced out unto the deck and peered out, The fire and smoke was thick enough to obscure a man's vision but Harold was a seasoned combatant and his heart nearly sagged when he saw a trio of werewolves battle barges bearing down viciously on his position. "All escorts, fire as they bear!!" Harold screamed into the air. The frigates accompanying Grey Thunder were sleek and powerful as they fired for all it was worth,

Gods, I was so fucking stupid. “Where are they?” I ask as I sit forward and Carter growls. I turn and pat his chest. “Steady, big guy, I’m not going anywhere.” Well, not yet, at least. If I go home, they will find the rest. I have to keep them all safe. “The last known location is near the Artic Ocean.” I nod, knowing that’s where they could have taken the sirens from. The colony in the north is only small, a hundred sirens at most.