Delta Forces operator Cutter Grogan fought for his country.

He gave his all and has the losses and the scars to show.

Now, he's waging another fight.For those whom the system has failed.

Cutter served in the world's most dangerous hotspots and sacrificed everything for his country.

His military file has more redactions than words.That life is behind him.

He's a fixer, now. He uses his specialist skills to help those whom the system let down.

When a mother wants him to free her son from the grasp of drug dealers, it sounds like a simple assignment.Knock some heads, give a stern talking to the delinquent. Walk away.

But nothing's ever that simple.

When the most vicious gang in New York is involved in a conspiracy that can destroy the country's foundations, he has a choice to make.

He can back off. Or, he can clean up.

The decision, again, is simple.The job will be anything but…Break is USA Today Bestselling Author Ty Patterson's first novel in a thrilling new series set in his Zeb Carter universe.I

t features his trademark razor-sharp suspense, breakneck action and furious pace that will keep you long in the night.

Ty Patterson's thrillers and characters rank alongside those of Lee Child's Jack Reacher, David Baldacci's Will Robie and Amos Decker, and Vince Flynn's Mitch RappTy

Patterson's thrillers are Unmissable, Unputdownable and Unforgettable!

Everything can be used as a weapon.

The covers and spine of a hardback
novel.  A rolled-up newspaper. The points of a folded sheet of paper.
Any everyday object could be used to either attack or block.

Cutter Grogan’s eyes took in the
surroundings as he walked down Lafayette Street, noting what could be used for
offense or defense. That umbrella someone had discarded in a trashcan. The
empty cartons on the sidewalk outside a store. That vandalized phone booth on
the corner with Grand Street—it could be used as cover.

It was automatic, a habit so deeply
ingrained from years of training and experience in far-off dusty and dangerous
lands that he wasn’t even conscious of it.

 New York in the summer. The
insistent and never-fading sounds of traffic and the smell of fumes. He
jaywalked the street to get to the sunlit side of Lafayette and closed his eyes
momentarily to bask in the warmth.

‘It’s not a park!’ a passerby yelled
at him and brushed past in a huff.

He grinned. He had been to the world’s
top cities. Paris, London, Berlin, Rio, Jakarta, Tokyo—wherever he went, he
felt at home. But New York? It was where he began and where he ended. He donned
his shades and carried on. Waited at the intersection with Grand for the lights
to turn and, when they did, proceeded to his destination, a bodega.

There were many within walking
distance, some even closer, but this particular one was his favorite. It was
neatly maintained, tidy, and had the light smell of incense in the
air.  He knew its owners. But the deal-clincher was the dessert counter.
Fluffy pastries and cakes, chocolates that melted in one’s mouth, all of them
freshly baked by the owner’s wife. They would set off calorie-counter alarms,
if fitness gear had those.

He glanced at his watch and hurried.
An oven-fresh batch would be coming, and he wanted to be first in line. Not
many knew of the store’s delicacies. However, word of mouth was a thing, and
the desserts often ran out as soon as they were displayed.

He removed his shades, folded them and
placed them in an inner pocket as he squinted at the scaffolding outside the
bodega. Construction on the building’s upper floors cut visibility.

 A bell jangled when he entered.

‘Chang,’ he greeted the Chinese man
behind the counter.

‘Cutter,’ the owner responded, his
face creasing in a smile. He was in his fifties, his hair still thick and
black, experience and hardship lining his face with tiny wrinkles. ‘Long time.
You been going to some other store?’

‘Only if Lin Shun has run away with
someone else. I come only for her pastries. You know that.’

‘I dunno what she sees in him,’ said
an elderly man from the next aisle, where he was mopping the floor. ‘I’ve
proposed to her several times.’

‘Have you considered that perhaps
you’re old?’

‘Me? Old?’

Cutter stood silently, enjoying their
humor. Moshe, the arrival, was joint-owner with Li Shun and Chang. An unlikely
partnership on the face of it. The elderly man outranked the Chinese-American
couple by close to three decades, though he was so fit only his wrinkled face
and arms gave his age away.

That night brought us together. 

Cutter had been on a late run several
years ago, the streets deserted, when the sounds of a scuffle had caught his
attention. A narrow alley behind the bodega, where buildings stored their trash
bins. It opened into Center Street. Several shadows moving in the dark.

At the sound of his arrival, the
figures had burst out and fled, but not before he had taken one man down and
crippled him with a blow to the temple.

A mugging gone wrong. Chang and Lin
Shun’s young son left bleeding on the ground. Moshe, then, a passerby who had
tried to help, injured as well.

Cutter called 911 and stayed with them
until the cops and first-responders arrived. He was with them when the
paramedics shook their heads almost imperceptibly. Daniel Shun, the son, had
died.

He had waited in the hospital’s
hallway while Moshe was undergoing surgery that helped him survive the
near-fatal knife wound to his kidneys.

Cutter joined the bodega owners in
their mourning, and as time healed, got close to them.  Moshe became
part of them when he stayed in touch and became a business partner as well when
he bought in to the store.

Cutter clapped the elder man on his
shoulder and looked at him critically. ‘He’s still got all his teeth,’ he told
Chang. ‘That ought to count for something, shouldn’t it?’

‘Teeth! That’s all he’s got.’

Moshe was in incredibly good shape for
his age. He ran half-marathons and was an active participant in neighborhood
walks. Any other person would be content with being a silent partner in the
business. Not the elder man. He helped out wherever he could. Stacking shelves,
cleaning up, even behind the checkout counter if needed, though he didn’t
prefer it.

He feels claustrophobic there. He
doesn’t like it.

Cutter stepped around the older
partner when he resumed wiping the floor. Moshe’s sleeves slid up his forearms,
and there it was: faded numerals tattooed on the inside of his left arm. Many
thought it was old ink, badly done. Cutter knew what it was and the horrors
behind it.

Moshe was an Auschwitz survivor.

 He had been six when he was
deported to the camp along with his parents and elder sister, ten when the camp
was liberated. The only member of his family to survive.

Cutter went to the dessert counter and
inhaled the aromas. A woman came from inside the store and wiped her hands on
her white apron. She hugged him hard and checked him out. He could see his
reflection in the glass covering the delicacies.

Six feet one.  Styled, dark
hair. Green eyes. Clean-shaven. Tee tucked into his jeans. Lightweight sports
jacket. Rubber-soled sneakers.

Because of his deep tan, he could
easily pass for someone from the Mediterranean region. Or the Middle East,
South America, North Africa—a vast range of geographies. Only a handful knew
what his genealogy was. Lin Shun, Chang and Moshe were among them.

‘Haven’t seen you for a while.’ Lin
Shun went behind the display cabinet and waited expectantly.

‘Been away.’

‘Vacation?’

‘Something like that.’ Rescuing
a hostage from a Colombian cartel. That was some holiday!

Her eyes sharpened at his tone. They
lingered on him. ‘No injuries?’

‘Nothing gets past you, Lin Shun,’ he
admitted ruefully. ‘None, this time.’

She looked at him searchingly and then
got down to business. ‘Pineapple and banana pastries. New recipe. They have
come out well. You should try them out.’

‘I’ll take two of them, and my usual.’

Coconut-sprinkled fruit cupcakes were
his go-to dessert. He licked his lips unconsciously as Lin Shun packed them in
a brown paper bag.

He was taking it from her when it
happened.

No one does vengeance like Cutter Grogan.

He's made it part of his Fixing business.

When his friends are killed in Los Angeles, in gang violence, he makes it personal

The call comes just as Cutter Grogan, the Fixer, has completed yet another mission.

Arnedra Jones, his business partner and friend, has been killed in LA.

He can mourn and let the LAPD investigate the murder. That's not who he is, though.

He decides to take a hand and finds himself in a world of vicious gangs, suspicious allies and a fight he's made his own.

Alone, outgunned and outnumbered by a significant margin, Cutter can back down and walk away.

Or, he can start a war.

The decision is easy to make.

Executing it, isn't.

'More! That's your first reaction when you've finished a Ty Patterson thriller'

In every previous mission, Cutter Grogan has always known who his enemies were.

In Washington DC, everyone is gunning for him.

Amy Breland, Speaker of the House of Representatives, is one of the most powerful people in the country.

When Lauren, her grand-daughter, goes missing, she could have turned to the FBI or the Metropolitan Police for help.

She calls Cutter Grogan.

He finds out why, when he arrives in DC.

Beneath the surface of the centre of power, he finds juice of a different kind. That wielded by predators who turn him into the most wanted person in the country.

Which makes him wonder if there's more to his mission than finding a missing person.

He's trapped in DC, hunted by gunmen, pursued by law enforcement, and chased by old enemies.

That's when he's most dangerous.

However, even his lethal skills may not be enough this time.

'Ty Patterson's thrillers should come with a health warning: Highly Addictive!'