The footsteps stopped just beyond the back corridor.

Not running.

Not cautious.

Measured.

The sound of men who believed — absolutely — that no one inside could stop them.

Riggs moved first, stepping between the door and the others, one hand instinctively reaching for the small of his back, forgetting until too late that firearms were not part of the Cold Case weekend. He ended up with nothing but his fists and a resolve he hoped would count for more than it did.

Georgie positioned herself beside him, shoulders squared, breath steadying.
Fizz rose slowly, placing herself between Liz’s slumped form and the doorway.

May stepped towards Pauline Philbey, who still stood with the laptop open as if the files themselves might offer protection.

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