Seth listened to Rafael chat, as they drove through the night. He might not have approved of Rafael's methods, but he was a good agent and got results. Not for the first time, he wondered if Rafael was right about him. Was he to uptight? No, he just cared about his job.
They drove through the of Chicago, headed toward the safe house. Their drive took them into a neighborhood with old row houses. The car pulled up to the row house, and Seth stepped out and looked over the area around the house, while Rafael stayed at the wheel. The coast looked clear, so Seth made a motion for Rafael to bring their witness out of the car.
"O.K. ma'am," Rafael said, "Get out and walk calmly up the stairs to number 128B. Seth will let you in." Seth was already at the top of the stairs by now, opening the antique front door. A musty smell, like cobwebs, came from the house. Obviously it had not been used in a long time.
He looked at the woman and Rafael, as they approached and spoke. "Stay here a minute please." He walked into the front room, his hand on is gun in its holster under his jacket. The room appeared to be empty. He flipped on the light switch, revealing wooden wall panels, circa 1980s furniture and an old fashioned big box television. Yes, this place needed to be updated.
He headed back to the tiny kitchen and checked it as well. It had white tile walls and green appliances. Next he headed upstairs to check the bathroom and the bedrooms. They both had floral print comforters, light blue walls and smelled of mothballs. Seth headed back down the stairs, satisfied that the house was safe. Poking his head out the door, he spoke. "Come on in."