Tonight’s job was different. It had come through a secure drop on the dark web, accompanied by a payment in untraceable crypto that was enough to pay his rent for a decade. The client was anonymous. The target was a facility simply known as "722 Top."
He ripped open his jacket, exposing his chest. The 722 Top was degrading—he could feel the cold beginning to nibble at the edges of his awareness. He pressed both palms flat against the console’s metal casing. anti deep freeze 722 top