Dirty Work Cinematic Sci-Fi Rain Ambient 4K
Dirty Work | Cinematic Sci-Fi Rain Ambient | 4K #DarkAmbient #SciFiAmbience #RainAmbience Копия трека с Youtube-канала Ambient Outpost They rarely called him - only when something couldn’t be handled through the usual channels. Only when it needed a certain kind of precision, the kind that left no trace. It was the same this time. The call came just as he was about to head out for dinner at Chasen’s, a place where everyone pretended not to know each other, but everyone did. Instead, he found himself on the interstate heading east, out toward the desert. The road was empty, the sky low and heavy. Not many cars at this hour - just the hum of his engine and the faint crackle of the radio trying to hold a signal. They didn’t use names. Just a voice, an address, and a pause long enough to feel personal. The location was near East Palm Canyon Drive, a quiet pocket of midcentury houses where time seemed to stall. The order was clear - a cleanup. Nothing that should lead back to Project Umbra, or any of the work connected to the Apollo control footage initiative. If that ever came to light, it wouldn’t just ruin reputations - it would break the illusion they’d worked so hard to build. He sat in the car, watching the glow of a single lamp flicker through the rain-streaked glass. Inside, he could see movement - slow, deliberate. Someone still awake, maybe waiting. Maybe knowing. He opened the file. No name again, only a notation in the upper margin: “Visual Integrity Compromise - Level 3.” He knew what that meant. Someone had seen something they shouldn’t have - an early reel, a transmission test, one of the composite sequences prepared for the lunar continuity. He’d heard about the meeting - The Secret Man, they called him - the one who set all this in motion. And ever since, those who worked under Umbra had been cleaning the trail he left behind. He leaned back in his seat, hands tightening on the steering wheel. For a moment, he thought about how much easier it could have been - how much simpler the truth might be if they’d just let the world see what really happened. But simplicity had no place in his line of work. He glanced once more at the flickering light inside. Then he turned off the ignition. He just wanted it to be over — Thirty minutes later, he was driving west toward Los Angeles. Near the Cabazon off-ramp, he pulled into a small petrol station and made the call. No one answered. He left the usual message - just a single word that meant the job was done. Then he hung up. By the time he reached the city, it was too late for dinner. He drove to Venice Beach, parked near Dell Avenue, and went up to her apartment. She didn’t ask where he’d been. She never did. He stayed until morning, but sleep never came. In the dim light before dawn, he realized Umbra had stopped being just an assignment. Whenever Washington was involved in something this deep, he knew they would never really let him go.
Dirty Work | Cinematic Sci-Fi Rain Ambient | 4K #DarkAmbient #SciFiAmbience #RainAmbience Копия трека с Youtube-канала Ambient Outpost They rarely called him - only when something couldn’t be handled through the usual channels. Only when it needed a certain kind of precision, the kind that left no trace. It was the same this time. The call came just as he was about to head out for dinner at Chasen’s, a place where everyone pretended not to know each other, but everyone did. Instead, he found himself on the interstate heading east, out toward the desert. The road was empty, the sky low and heavy. Not many cars at this hour - just the hum of his engine and the faint crackle of the radio trying to hold a signal. They didn’t use names. Just a voice, an address, and a pause long enough to feel personal. The location was near East Palm Canyon Drive, a quiet pocket of midcentury houses where time seemed to stall. The order was clear - a cleanup. Nothing that should lead back to Project Umbra, or any of the work connected to the Apollo control footage initiative. If that ever came to light, it wouldn’t just ruin reputations - it would break the illusion they’d worked so hard to build. He sat in the car, watching the glow of a single lamp flicker through the rain-streaked glass. Inside, he could see movement - slow, deliberate. Someone still awake, maybe waiting. Maybe knowing. He opened the file. No name again, only a notation in the upper margin: “Visual Integrity Compromise - Level 3.” He knew what that meant. Someone had seen something they shouldn’t have - an early reel, a transmission test, one of the composite sequences prepared for the lunar continuity. He’d heard about the meeting - The Secret Man, they called him - the one who set all this in motion. And ever since, those who worked under Umbra had been cleaning the trail he left behind. He leaned back in his seat, hands tightening on the steering wheel. For a moment, he thought about how much easier it could have been - how much simpler the truth might be if they’d just let the world see what really happened. But simplicity had no place in his line of work. He glanced once more at the flickering light inside. Then he turned off the ignition. He just wanted it to be over — Thirty minutes later, he was driving west toward Los Angeles. Near the Cabazon off-ramp, he pulled into a small petrol station and made the call. No one answered. He left the usual message - just a single word that meant the job was done. Then he hung up. By the time he reached the city, it was too late for dinner. He drove to Venice Beach, parked near Dell Avenue, and went up to her apartment. She didn’t ask where he’d been. She never did. He stayed until morning, but sleep never came. In the dim light before dawn, he realized Umbra had stopped being just an assignment. Whenever Washington was involved in something this deep, he knew they would never really let him go.