"Target the orbital array."
The Arbiter gave the order from the cavernous depths of the Swiss Alps. He stood inside a hollowed mountain fortress.
He wore his crimson velvet coat. He watched massive steel gears turn beneath the stone floor.
Ten terrestrial acoustic jamming dishes rose from the snow covered peaks outside. Each dish measured the width of a professional football stadium. Thick frost coated their metallic surfaces. They were not designed to broadcast music. They were designed to kill the sky.
"Project Echo is primed," a cloaked technician reported. The man bowed his head in sheer reverence.
The Inner Circle did not tolerate defiance. The American anomaly had stolen their transatlantic monopoly. He had weaponized cheap aerospace scrap to beam rebellion into Europe.
The Blo
