Black Scarface
A Novel By
Jimmy DaSaint
and
Freeway Ricky Ross
"Black Scarface is what street lit is all about. Jimmy DaSaint and Rick Ross make the game come so alive with this book that it should be a crime just reading it! 5 stars!!"
- Kwame Teague, Best Selling Author of ‘Dutch
This novel is the closest thing to the real street life of a hustler that I have ever read. Jimmy DaSaint and Freeway Rick Ross
tell a gangsta tale better than any I've read. They keeps it gutta, real, and true to the game. ”
- Street Element Magazine
"This is prime, vintage storytelling. Black Scarface is a notorious, exhilarating, explosive gangster saga guaranteed to keep readers riveted from beginning to the end -- a definite streetbanger. "
- Street Literature Review Magazine
"This highly anticipated book is a page-turner! I couldn't put it down -- it's the first joint effort from former drug Kingpin
"Freeway" Ricky Ross and experienced urban lit writer Jimmy DaSaint. Black Scarface is a winner all the way around!"
- Wendy Day, Rap Coalition
"Jimmy DaSaint & Freeway Ricky Ross picked the hardest title for a hard Hood tale. This Black Scarface collabo is crazy...A page turner hands down!"
- Essence Best Selling Author J.M. Benjamin/Ride or Die Chick
"The wait is over! One of the Street Lit's most prolific writer's alive has penned yet another classic. 'Black Scarface', will grab
you, lift you up, and pull you into its pages from beginning to end. "
- Antoine 'Inch' Thomas, Author of 'Flowers Bed' & 'Black Roses
"A powerful story that will hold and keep you hooked to the very last page! Black Scarface is a classic in the making."
- Charles Threat, Author of ‘Window Shopper
“Crisp, coherent, well-written urban drama that does not disappoint in living up to its name. With tension, sequencing, plotting and characterization, this strong novel is sure to be a long term street banger.”
-Relentless Aaron, Best Selling Author
“Black Scarface is an instant classic! A non-stop page turner that will be talked about for many years to come.”
-SPUD, Author of Kalifornia Luv
“Freeway Rick Ross and Jimmy DaSaint, together, on a novel- it doesn’t get anymore hood than that. These dudes are gansta to the core. Cop Black Scarface- it’s like that!”
-Seth “Soulman” Ferranti, Author of Street Legends and prison Stories
“Black Scarface is a vividly written fiction that takes urban drama to new heights. It is a bona-fide page turner, with perfectly developed plots and characters that catches the reader’s attention from the very first sentence. Better than gangsta; Stronger than street Fiction? Yes I’m sure!”
-Tracee A. Hanna, Author of Zane anthology “Masquerade”
“Jimmy DaSaint and Freeway Rick are a magnificent combo. This book is a sure classic!”
-Kavio, Bossland Records/ West Coast Mafia
“Black Scarface is so real and deep; it had to be put in INK!”
-Tiona Brown, Author of Ain’t No Sunshine
“Jimmy DaSaint & Freeway have written a hard core, street classic, that will be talked about for many years to come.”
-SC, Rap Artist/ Block Star
BLACK SCARFACE
All Rights Reserved © 2010 DASAINT ENTERTAINMENT
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording taping, orby any information storage retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher.
BLACK SCARFACE
BLACK SCARFACE is a work of fiction. Any resemblances to real people, living or dead, actual events, establishments, or locales are intended to give thefiction a sense of reality and authenticity. Other names, characters, places andincidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.Those fictionalized events & incidents that involve real persons did not occur and/or may be set in the future.
Published by DASAINT ENTERTAINMENT PO Box 97
Bala Cynwyd, PA 19004
For information contact:
DASAINT ENTERTAINMENT Email: [email protected]
Website: www.dasaintentertainment.com Black Scarface MySpace:
www.myspace.com/book_blackscarface FaceBook/YouTube
www.facebook.com/Jimmy DaSaint www.youtube.com/JimmyDaSaint1 Jimmy DaSaint MySpace:
www.myspace.com/1urban_author
Freeway Ricky Ross MySpace: www.myspace.com/freewayenterprise910
from
Jimmy DaSaint
First I want to give all my praise to God, my strength, soul and Savior. Next I would like to give a big thank you to my very good friend, and co-writer, Freeway Ricky Ross. Thank you, Rick, for helping me to write this powerful novel that I truly believe will one day be a classic. All your input and suggestions were well worth it, and it gave the story more realness. This book would be nothing without your genuine and honest contributions. Once again, thank you Rick for being patient with me from the very first page to the very last.
I would also like to thank the following list of people; my mother, Belinda; my sisters, Dawn, Tammy, and Tanya, and my brother Sean; my sons, Marquise and Nigel, and their beautiful, strong, black mothers, Valerie Henry and Anissa Phillips.
Thanks to my good friends and supporters, Sheila Waker, Karen Mitchell,, Pamela Thornton, Ingvild Tidemann, Jac Brown, Kells and Prince at Behind Bars Ent., Tania and Antion 'Inch' Thomas at AMIAYA ENT. All-Hood Magazine, Mink Magazine, Marc Levin from HBO, Darrin 'Jeeky' Lockings - the best music producer in the game, Sekue Clark, Duran¬NorFleet, Wallace 'Duke' Gray, Robert Hennigan, Novaline Tanksly, Karen Elmore, Dana Still, Sheila Ford, Yvonne Gray Winkfield, and the entire Gray family. Rasi Baker, Joey 'Breeze' Ellise, A.J. Blankenberg, Eric and Wendy Gift at A&B Book Distributers, Maxwell Taylor, Roddell Smalls, Anthony 'Man' Durham, Terri Woods, Elizebeth Newhart, Vicki Stringer, Kevin 'MC' Veal, URBAN CELEBRITY Magazine, Mikell Davis, author of Black Mafia, Kenneth 'Cheeze' Johnson, Kaleem (Butter), Montrell 'Twit' Gary, Charles 'Silk' Dunn, Thomas 'T.J.' Henderson, John 'Ali' Dixon, W.E. Payne from Lancing, Michigan, Sana 'Suspect1 Tipler, Charles Threat, author of Window Shopper, Edward Billie, Keyon Lee, William Cole, Maurice Pointer, from Detroit, Jerome Jones, Antonio 'Tadpole' Mclean, Angelo Woods, Darnell Atchitson from D.C., Corey Days, Corey Colemann, Mike Jackson, from Cleveland, Lamar'Walid' McCory, Tyreek Williams, Maurice Daniels, and Eugene 'Mick' Rice from B-more, Kevin Davis from South Philly, Atiba Pilart, from New Orleans-aka- CAT, Michael 'Mega Chin' Daguiar, my brother for life, Gerry Jackson, Vouch Magazine in Colorado, Nicholas Black, West, North,
Southwest Philly. G-Town, Mt. Erie, Camden, N.J. and all my friends, fans and supporters from all over the country. Special shout out to my squad, I.C.H. (Inner City Hustlers), Hands of Stone, Shorty Raw, Oschino, Sparks, Aziz, ScarFo, Collossus. My good friends Toni Jefferson and Bonnie Bretz, thanks for all the love. R.I.P. Man, Mark, Troy, Rob and Harold 'Georgie' Johnson, all my fallen (ICH) soldiers. To all the real soldiers locked up in the Feds and State prisons. Stay strong my brothers, and remember that even in darkness, light shines on all who believe. And a very special shout out to my good friends Ryan Kaye, Nicholas Black and Larry Huddleston for all the patience, typing, editing and input ya’ll had in this book. Thank you so much.
Sincerely, Jimmy DaSaint
from
Freeway Ricky Ross
First I would like to thank my mother, Annie May RossMcGee, for showing strength and support through this dark time in my life, who had faith, when no one else did, including myself. She ne
ver left my side for one moment. Love you, Mom. To my seven beautiful future kings and queens, always remember your father loves you more than anything in this world; Tommy, Vick, Rick, Carrie, Rickeya, Kardo and Jamal. I also would like to give a shout out to their beautiful mothers, who took care of my children while I was trapped inside this darkness. I thank each of y’all so much. A special shout out to my older brother David, I love you big bro, never forget that, and all my brothers and sisters: Ken, Tootie, Angle and Tanya. Jimmy and Johnny, my two loyal twin cousins from Tyler, Texas; thanks for all the support. Adrian Frazier, Neville King, Little Steven, Jac Brown, Straw, my brother from another mother, Ingvild Tidmann, Kevin Booth, my soldier in this war since the day we met. Marc Levin, Geno Taylor, D.J. Pooh, Solo, my man King -Tee, Harry-O, a true O.G., my man, Bonz, Tammy Banks, Celest Derrickson, Karen Mitchell, Rachell Ross, Christin 'Cee-Cee' Martin, Chris Capra, Darius Edwards, a special shout out to Congresswoman Maxine Waters, thank you for standing tall throughout my whole ordeal. Gary Webb and his entire family, Jesse Kats, Hazel Nelson, Faheem Braum, Mary Bonner, All Hood Magazine, Montell Williams, thanks for inviting me to your show and shining a light on my case. Mark Rowland and B.E.T., Mitch Jackson, Big shout to my friend Wendy Day, who's been schooling me since we met. James Broadway, ESwift, Cricket, George Lewis, to my best friend Jimmy 'Da'Saint, one of the most talented writers in the world! Your time is coming, be patient, I’m ‘a make sure it happens. Thanks for bringing me into this wonderful project. The world ain't ready for you! To all the brothers and sisters that's doing time under these unjust laws. Be strong, never give up and keep your heads to the sky! To all my fallen comrades, may y’all rest in peace and know that y’all will never be forgotten. To the brothers that's out there now, committing the senseless black on black crimes; Wake Up! A special shout out to all my fans that write me and keep in contact, and all of y’all who visit my website. Thanks for sending artists and producers, y’all really keep my spirits high. AS-IS Magazine, Shabazz, Young Doe from Colorado, Showtime, Glenn Plummer and Dwayn Acway, and another special thanks to my teacher, Doc. And last, but not least, I would also like to thank Larry Huddleston, Ryan Kaye and Nicholas Black for all the patience and help y’all gave us for this project. If there is anyone that I forgot please, blame my head and not my heart. Sincerely, Freeway Ricky Ross
The ghetto ain't nothing nice. Every day we open our eyes, there's conflict and sacrifice. Young hustlers, thugs and players, All of them striving to be the man; all entering into a cruel world that they do not understand. They yearn to live the glamorous life of beautiful women, fast cars, and endless fame. But only the strong can survive this heartless and brutal game. They come in all races, young and old. And for the lust of blood money, most of them will eventually sell their souls. But every once in a while a true hustler will appear. One who is loyal to the game and in his heart there is no fear. He lives by the street code, and will die for what he believes. He is driven by power and respect, not by money or greed. In the face of adversity he will always stand tall and remain unbreakable with the strength to never fall. In the midst of chaos he will never turn away and run. Many men will fight for the crown, but on the streets there can only be one.
DO NOT BE OVERLY WICKED, NOR BE FOOLISH: WHY SHOULD YOU DIE BEFORE YOUR TIME?
- ECCLESIASTES: 7:17
Prologue
Inside the gray brick and dark oak walls of the Federal Courthouse, located in downtown Philadelphia, Norman "Face" Smith Jr. - also known as “Black Scarface” was on trial for his life. After years of failed attempts, the U.S. Government had finally gotten their man.
Face had been charged with “conspiracy to purchase and distribute” more than 2,000 kilograms of Colombia's finest agricultural export, as well as 250 kilos of Afghani-born heroin. For many years Face had been what the authorities would consider a nightmare criminal. He was a man with tentacles of power and influence that were so far reaching that nobody, except perhaps Face knew precisely how high up they went.
More than a hundred bodies had appeared and disappeared along the path of violent rage, which more often than not included suffering and torture. No victim was ever allowed to leave this world without a quite explicit horror associated with their passing. Such viciousness had quickly earned Face a seat at the top of the FBI's Ten Most Wanted List. As far as the DEA and the ATF were concerned, there was nobody more dangerous.
His organization was responsible for the murders of judges, lawyers, police officers, rival drug dealers, mobsters, gangsters, and just about anyone else who might step in the path of chaos that Face created.
The Government was trying to make sure that Face went away for the rest of his life, and they didn't want anything to get in the way. Face was considered larger than life, almost a supervillain, or something bigger. He was the kind of gangster that people whisper about, as if he might have spies in every crowd. From coast to coast, he was known and feared.
Face sat calmly beside his attractive female lawyer, Gloria Jones. He wasdressed in a black Armani suit, with a pair of black alligator skin shoes. Insharp contrast, Gloria Jones was sitting by the man that epitomized fear and power. She was clean and perfect. Her honeybrown skin and almondcolored eyes put most men in a state of awe.
As beautiful as she was, she was an even better litigator. She had worked her way up from the bottom to become one of the bestknown criminal defense lawyers in the country. Though she was only 5 feet and 5 inches tall, in the courtroom she was a giant. She was flawless. She knew how to inflect her voice at just the right moment to get the biggest reaction from the jury. With a glance she could disarm even the most vicious prosecutor. She was respectful to everyone she ever came into contact with, and she had established a great deal of rapport among her colleagues.
Gloria shuffled through some of her more recent notes, doing her best to block out the intensity of the moment. It wouldn't be long; the jury would be back any moment. Her mind went back and forth considering the various possibilities as she briefly glanced toward her client. Face was so calm and relaxed that she wondered how anyone could distance themselves from all of this. With not a care in the world, he looked as if he might have just read the ingredients off of a cereal box.
At just 29 years of age, this was the biggest case of Gloria's life. The stakes were high. She placed some of the notes back into her small, black briefcase that sat open in front of her. As her fingers swept across the metal clasps she noticed a slight shudder resonating through her body and a tinge of nervousness danced through her entire hourglass figure.
Face glanced casually around the room at all the people that were crowded in. This entire courtroom was a circus to him, nothing more. The faces of family members, friends, enemies, victims, federal agents, reporters, spectators, and probably more than a few ghosts from his past, all of them were watching him…Just staring faces.
On this surreal backdrop, the trial had played out. It had been a long and laboring two months of exhibits and photographs; explanations and objections had grappled with each other. Every day seemed longer and more dreadful than the last.
But today was different. Today was the final scene in this sordid affair. Today the verdict would be read. Finally, perhaps justice would be served and the darkness would be lifted. The expectation and curiosity were as thick as fog, pushing its way through the courtroom in rolls and sheets. You could almost taste it.
Suddenly, the twelve men and women of the jury made their way purposefully back into the courtroom, doing their best not to make eye contact with Face as they took their assigned seats. They had deliberated for over an hour, and though it may have seemed like forever to them, it was fairly quick as far as deliberations go. They were relieved to finally be through. Perhaps now they could go on about their lives and stop living in the surreal world of drugs and money and greed and death - a world that they would never be able to understand by looking at court documents andstifled testimony.
But it was over now, an
d they sat calmly, as if a large weight had been lifted from each of them. The United States of America-VsNorman "Face" Smith, Jr., could come to a close.
Clad in his black gown, Judge Anthony T. Marino leaned back a bit to give his lower back a rest. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes momentarily, wondering how he had arrived at this point in his life. It was strange, he thought, that all of these people's lives had zigged and zagged until they had met here... at this point... at this exact moment.
Italian by birth, born to immigrant parents who had made their first home on the east coast, he had seen so much in his 73 years. His face was sharp, with a thick mustache and a mane of salt and pepper hair that was combed neatly back across his head. He had an intelligent aura about him, as if he knew things that normal people would never understand.
Things had certainly changed in his nearly twenty-three years of service as a Federal District Judge. He had been appointed by Reagan, and left the practice of law many years ago. He had a power, shared by all Federal Judges, that few people can imagine if not in the practice of law themselves. With the stroke of a pen, he could do just about anything. From the smallest criminal, to the largest corporation, none could escape his gravity. Yet even when considering all of that power, this case before him had more magnitude than anything that had ever passed through his courtroom.
There was a great deal of attention in the press, as well as from behind closed doors where a lot of very powerful people were silently involved. These were the invisible people so high up in the chain of power that everything they did was shrouded in mystery. These men and women - the puppet masters that they were
- knew that they were standing atop a house of cards, and that any sudden movement could bring them all crashing down. These were not people of good intentions, but those dedicated to selfpreservation.
This case was about much more than just Norman "Face" Smith, Jr. Although few could see it, the picture was much larger... much more was at stake.
Judge Marino looked around the courtroom as he slowly shifted forward. His hand firmly grasped the gavel and the room began to silence even before the three sharp strikes echoed throughout. Total silence fell onto each and every one of them, almost as if they had collectively agreed to stop breathing.
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