Ghost To The Game

By Orion Pharoah

The rules of the game are signed in blood and the house always wins. 

 

"Hustlers hustle to be seen but the real, they grind to disappear...."

 

The 80's gave birth to a war on narcotics that expanded from the White House to the Kremlin and the underworld of drugs and money become the lifestyles of the rich and infamous. But everything in the Devil's paradise isn't always glamorous.

Follow the story of Orion, orphaned by the game, as he's raised to become a man in a world made of violence, and battle mental demons of his own. Find out how his baptism into the cold, harsh world of black-market logistics and dirty money transforms an exceptionally intelligent street-smart child, into the deserving heir to the throne.

Learn if he can navigate through the darkness to find the light and that the cost of rising to the top will be his soul if he can't find love for his demolished heart. 

Dive into this urban thriller and see what kind of crossroad's deal Orion makes to survive and become a "Ghost to the Game".

• Language: English
• Publisher: Subconscious Literature
• Release date: Oct 15, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201925604

Orion Pharoah

My dyslexia made it easy to ignite my imagination and paint pictures with my words. I took the long road in learning the process of converting a great story into a great book, and will forever be humbly perfecting my craft.  I don't know if I'm a good writer but I know I'm a great storyteller and I have a unique vision that is expressed through my pen. 

Book preview

Chapter 1

In September of 1984 a car bomb took the lives of three American tourist in the front of a local grocery store in Kingston, Jamaica. The local news reported that it was a failed assignation attempt on the world’s largest narcotic network owners. Jason Duncan-J- the actual network owner, ordered a swift and persistent retaliation and within 48 hours, all but one co-conspirator was dead and it was made brutally clear to all the underworld why these affiliates were dispatched.

The next morning J was sitting in the conference room when one of his trusted men walked in and told him that the news was wrong. In the car that blew up was a young street hustler making money as a ghetto tour guide, an American and his wife were dead but their son was still alive; he was in the store when it happened and is now in the wind.

J jumped to his feet.

Get the Boys.

Within minutes all seven of his most trusted men were standing in front of him and J, taking a deep breath, spoke.

Gentlemen, there is a 14-year-old American child hiding in Kingston, Jamaica and two days ago he saw his parents get blown up, now we are all going to go find him.

With those words all seven men grabbed their go-bags and headed to the lobby.

At the private hangar PJ asked.

Boss man, Braddah, you know I’m gettin’ on dis plane no matta what but why dis kid? He’s dead to America and a ghost to Jamaica, dey will nev’r know he is here.

J, showing full emotion (something rarely seen) replied,

Look around and take account, I created this wealth for all of us to grow and I have more power than most presidents. I just created an orphan that had no choice in the matter and if I don’t take care of this child and share this wealth with him- out of love and nothing else, then I am the devil and all of you are just demons.

They spent the flight in silence and when they landed that evening, up until the next morning, they hit the streets of Kingston. After three hours, J's cell rang- it was PJ.

Bossman, Me seein him sitting not 200 yards from Me.

PJ, don’t let him outta your sight! No one approaches him! This kid is a survivor, if you spook him we’ll never see him again. J instructed.

With that, Jason got in his car and headed towards the courtyard where the young man was sitting and laughing with the other Jamaican youth. When the young boy saw J approaching him in the courtyard he sprang to his feet and bolted towards him. He yelled, Dad!! He was only inches from J when he realized and stopped,

You're not my dad but you look like you could be an older version. The boy studied the face in front of him. The lines around his dark eyes made them look intriguing and inviting. J smiled, Kid, you’ve been on these streets for four days and you're here just chillin? I know what happened to your parents’ man, and I’m sorry, I’m real sorry.

He put his arm on the boy’s shoulder, It’s not safe for you out here, come with me, Son. I flew all the way here to make sure you were okay and to say I’m sorry to your face, it’s because of my face that you lost your family and there is nothing I can do to change that. I’m here to offer you a new life- not a better one, just a better different- if you let me. The boy looked at J then tearfully embraced him and they got in a car with the others and left for the airport hangar. In the car J asked, Were you sleeping on the streets for four days?

The young man spoke up, When I fled the bombing I ran into the heart of Kingston because I remembered my father telling me all African Americans were divided there because it was the first stop on the slave trade. He said Kingston would always be our home, where our family was from so many decades ago. The boy said this like it brought a certain calm to his tragedy and he continued, I hid in the back yard of an older Jamaican woman and when she found me she gave me a place to sleep.

When they got to the hanger the young man stopped at the steps of the G3, trying to wrap his head around what was happening. What kind of man has a private jet and gets bombed by people?

J stopped and looked at the boy again. He was tall for his age, 5’10 with a medium build and dark brown eyes- eyes that told a story. He could tell his family valued appearance as his hair was kept neat and his clothes although tattered from his latest ventures, were of good quality. The kind of man that’s going to give you everything money can buy and teach you the value of what it can’t. Have you heard the name Orion before? He was an Egyptian god that stood over the pyramids and protected rebirth and the after-life. It is also the only constellation that stays ahead of the sky and can rise and be seen during the day. Orion was a warrior and now, you are him. Your new name will be Orion Duncan. Happy Birthday Son."

Chapter 2

With his hand on my shoulder Pop’s explained, Son tonight the entire organization will pause to celebrate your birthday and your role as prince, heir to the throne. I turned my head, breaking my stare at the crystal blue ocean from the lounge chair I was sitting in, next to him. My pops a tall stocky man with dark curly locks and serious eyes; to me, they were a saving grace, I looked into those almond colored eyes and felt my soul being embraced. Thank you Pops. This place is peaceful, I can see why you kept it secret for so long. Thank you for sharin’ it with me.

He smiled, A perfect place to turn 21, huh? It’s always been just me and Pete drinkin’ and chillin’ at the bar, now Son, you can call this place home whenever you want. Just then Uncle Pete, a seaside bar owner and part time shrink to my pops walked up with food. He was a tall slender man with skin as dark as ebony and kind, happy hazel eyes. He put the tray down on the table and placed his hands on my shoulders, giving them a squeeze and smiled as Pops continued, Son, when it’s time Pete will have everything you need to start a new life, you will have a new name with a past history and credit, enough to do whatever the hell you want. Pete walked around my chair to see my face, "Young J, I luv da man ya have become but be sure ta keep ya focus as ya ent’r da