Breaker (Red Ghost Trilogy Book 1)

When Earth Falls, Outlaws Rise

In Breaker, when alien forces overrun the planet and governments crumble, the future of humanity rests not in the hands of soldiers—but in those of society’s most feared criminals. Kidnapped by a powerful syndicate, adventurer Anders Benson learns a grim truth: Earth is already lost. But all is not yet surrendered.

Brought into a renegade group known as The Talented, Anders joins superpowered fugitives on a mission that defies reason—wage a war of vengeance against an alien empire. Together, they tear through hostile worlds, twisting the laws of reality in their wake. But wielding such power comes at a price, and their journey reveals stakes far beyond Earth alone.

Blending science fiction with elements of dark fantasy, Breaker is a high-octane, multiverse-spanning saga of defiance, loyalty, and cosmic warfare. Perfect for readers who crave epic battles, sharp wit, and the thrill of impossible odds.

Read Breaker by Gerry Eugene and follow the last line of defense on their unforgettable warpath.

Excerpt from the book

Jago, Jono, and Josto studied the man duct-taped to the wheelchair. Somebody had gagged him with the same tape. Over his eyes was a black blindfold. They had agreed (they always agreed with each other) that their guest receive neither injury nor insult that could not heal. Two security guards stood just behind the wheelchair, flanking the prisoner. The Triplets sat at a walnut seminar table facing their captive. During preconference, they decided to let Josto speak for them. He was the oldest by two hours. They looked to be in their fifties, but no one had any idea, really, and no one would ask.

At a slight gesture from Jono, the security guards stepped out of the room. The doors slid shut behind them. Josto stood up, walked around the table, and flipped away the blindfold. The prisoner’s eyes flashed in rage as Josto cleared his throat. The gag remained in place.

“I am Josto Caduti. These are my brothers, Jago and Jono. You are Anders Benson. So that settles names. Mr. Benson, may we call you Anders?” Josto leaned forward, gripped the edge of the duct tape, and ripped it from Anders’s lips. “I am so sorry,” Josto said.

He returned to his place at the table and sat down again. Like his siblings, Josto wore black trousers, black blazer, and white shirt. His silver hair was neat and trimmed, combed back. He was clean shaven. He wore no jewelry, no watch. Jago and Jono appeared identical, of course.

“We are certain you have questions, and we know you must be angry and confused. You came to Chicago intending to obtain signatures on certain instruments that would substantially add to your net worth. We promise that wealth to you now, and we have never broken our word.

“You hired a car some hours ago to take you to the financial district, and that is all you remember, except perhaps you may have noticed in the last waking moments that your driver wore a tiny gasmask. We drugged you to facilitate matters.”

Jono piped up. “He must be thirsty, Josto. Would you care for a drink, Anders?”

“Fuck you,” Anders said. He was in his early thirties, with russet-brown hair and a runner’s build. He glared at his captors through green eyes. He maintained top physical shape, active in climbing, skiing, lifting, and skydiving. Just weeks earlier, he had risked his life to achieve a great prize.

“Mr. Benson, we need your help. We are desperate for it. That said, to bring you here under these circumstances is perhaps not the very best tactic. But we could not settle on another course of action, and this meeting means everything to us, and to you, too.”

“Go to hell,” said Anders. A giggle escaped Jago.

Jono spoke. “Cut to it, Josto.”

Josto said, “Three weeks ago, shortly after a severe storm, you walked into the Sonoran Desert and walked out with two gold ingots, their combined value a little in excess of two-point-nine million U. S. dollars.”