"Harry, wake up," Sarah whispered.
They had arrived, but were quickly surrounded by armed men in black tops and jeans. One of them was already inside the train car.
Harry slowly stood, still groggy. Outside, he saw more men encircling the train. The man inside looked directly at him.
"You have to come with us, sir. My boss would like to have a word," he said.
Harry complied, and so did Lucy and Sarah.
They were led into a car that drove them to one of Solomon’s places. It looked like a warzone—walls and floors riddled with bullet holes.
"That's some heavy firepower," Harry muttered, motioning to the damage for Lucy and Sarah to notice.
"Keep moving!" one of the men barked. Harry didn’t react. His message was clear—don’t try anything stupid.
They were taken into a room where a young man—early twenties—stood waiting. Three chairs had been set up. Around him were men armed with rifles; the rest carried clubs and machetes.
"Ah, my friends. Come in," he said.