When hard-nosed Chicagoan Nick Mason is sprung from an Indiana prison after serving only five years of a 25-year–to-life sentence, he's hardly done paying for a killing he did not commit.
When he gets out, Mason must do the bidding of Darius Cole, the feared inmate who used cartel-like connections to get his conviction reversed. A stoic along the lines of Lee Child's Jack Reacher, Mason agrees to the deal out of a fervent desire to see his ex-wife and young daughter before the girl is too old to remember him. A seasoned criminal before he was out of his teens, he had gone straight to raise his family only to be talked into taking part in one last heist. One dead Drug Enforcement Administration agent and one dead friend later, he was in a maximum security unit, refusing to name the fed's real killer. Now, set up by Cole in a swanky, fully stocked pad in Lincoln Park—a far cry from the Irish South Side neighborhood in which he grew up—Mason has barely settled in when he's directed to shoot a man in a motel room. That assignment goes better than a surprise visit to his family in the leafy suburbs, where his remarried wife won't let him see their daughter. Meanwhile, Mason is obsessively tailed by Sandoval, a cop with a checkered history of his own. Chicago has rarely served as a better backdrop for a crime novel, both with its diverse qualities and pervasive corruption. A consummate pro known for his Alex McKnight series (Let it Burn, 2013, etc.), Hamilton surpasses himself with Mason, who inspires storytelling of the leanest, most gripping sort.
With a terrific new hero built for the long run, Hamilton stands to gain new followers—especially if Hollywood's plans to adapt the book come to fruition.