Page 117 of Last Shot

Frankie, who always wore baggy clothes. Who had short hair and would not run the risk of being recognised as Giovanni Barbarani’s troublemaking daughter in the Semperdom Women’s Prison visiting room. The ‘boy’ in the tracksuit.

Libby and Frankie. Working together.

Max couldn’t look at Grey.

Find the emotion, she told herself. Like looking for the right wire to cut on a bomb, a shard of glass in a deep wound.

‘Okay, so ETR doesn’t commit murder,’ Max said. ‘So why did they shoot your dad?’

Frankie raised her eyebrows and, to Max’s surprise, her gaze flickered to her siblings, Jett and Skinner, all of whom had stopped struggling. ‘Oh?’ Frankie’s mouth made an exaggerated O shape. ‘Noweveryone wants to listen? Now everyone cares about ETR’s mission?’

‘Tell us, Frankie, we’re listening,’ Max said, eyes fixed on her.

‘I know what you’re doing,’ the youngest Barbarani said, her eyes flickering between them.

‘What am I doing?’

‘You think you’re going to distract me or keep me talking until help arrives. But no one’s coming to help you. I made sure of it.’

‘I know,’ Max said, ‘but it’s like you said, isn’t it? No one listened before. That’s why you messed with Tom’s car, right? So people would listen?’

Frankie nodded.

‘What does ETR want with your family, Frankie? I know you were talking about Australia becoming carbon-neutral by ...’ Max tried to push her mind back to the sounds of Quinton’s ute and Nella’s sobs over Arnold as Frankie had tried to explain ETR’s mission, but Max had been too caught up in her fury at Grey to pay attention—

‘It’s quite simple,’ Grey said. ‘Earth’s True Redeemers have always had the one ideology: money equals environmental change. ETR believe there’s already enough global capital to finance the actions required to stop climate change. But that wealth is currently in the hands of a small percentage of the population. They need big investors, big donors to limit global warming to two degrees within the next five years and transition to a low-carbon global economy.’

‘You listened?’ Frankie’s eyes were wide, staring at Grey like he was a golden retriever that had just learnt to fetch.

‘I researched,’ Grey corrected. ‘It’s my job.’

Frankie’s mouth tightened. ‘Your job, yeah, well, you’re right – mostly.’

‘Some corners of the internet are aligning ETR with something else though, aren’t they?’ Grey said. ‘Eat The Rich?’

Frankie rolled her shoulders. ‘That why you wanted me back here? You worried I’m being corrupted?’

‘Someone’s gotten in your ear, Frankie. Whether it’s this Esme woman or Libby Johnston or both, it doesn’t matter – you can’t possibly think that your inheritance from killing your dad’s going to get you enough money to make Australia carbon-neutral. You know this is insane, right? This can’t work.’

‘They’ve done it before,’ Frankie said quietly. ‘I know itsoundsinsane. But nothing has ever changed the world that didn’t sound a little insane at first.’ She tightened her grip on the weapon. ‘I’m not an armchair activist. I’m not an idealist making cutesy Canva squares withsave the planethashtags, I’m a warrior. A soldier. And sometimes soldiers have to kill in the fight for their country. And I’m fighting for the entireplanet.’

No one was moving. It was like they were corpses already. There was no way out. Max had no weapon, no exit. The only person she knew was not working with Frankie was being held at gunpoint and had proven to her countless times that he was loyal to this family. If Grey could think of a way out of this that involved saving Nella and the others and leaving Max with a bullet in the head, he’d do it, she was sure of it.

In this room full of people, she was on her own.

‘Climate change is political, Max,’ Frankie continued. ‘Poverty is political. The earth doesn’t need bleeding hearts, it needs money. The future of the human race is literally on the line, and my father wants to build a fucking hotel? Do you know what my family’s fortune could do if it was invested into green energy? Into making Australia carbon-neutral?’

‘Frankie,’ Max elongated her name as slowly as she dared, ‘that can still happen. No one else needs to get hurt.’

‘They do.’ Frankie smiled at her family, like she was apologising for cutting in front of them in a line. ‘I’m not naïve, Max. This is the only way to do it. And it’s not just about Dad. I need the whole fortune to come to me, and for that to happen, they all have to die. It’s a small price to pay – the deaths of six people to save seven billion. If someone knew what was going to happen when Hitler came to power, like we know our planet is dying, and they had to kill six Nazis to stop the Holocaust, they’d do it, wouldn’t they? You’d do it.’

‘Your family aren’t Nazis, Frankie. Your inheritance can’t solve the entire planet’s problems.’

‘You’ve got no idea,’ Frankie whispered, ‘what I can do.’

POP.

A gun went off. Max’s lungs crystallised, then shattered through her, piercing her other organs, cutting her breath.

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