Dopeman: Memoirs of a Snitch (Part 3 of Dopeman's Trilogy) Read Online Free PDF Page B

Dame Reed ... and I’m an undercover federal agent for the Drug Enforcement Agency,” he stated.
    “Conversation’s over,” Braylon said as he stood up from the table abruptly while slicing his hand across his neck, signaling that it was a wrap. He walked away before the man even had a chance to protest. I don’t have shit to talk to that mu’fucka about, Braylon thought as he went back to his cell. He had absolutely no interest in assisting Detective Reed. If there were more real niggas in the world then he wouldn’t be in the position he was in. Pigs walking around looking like real live hood niggas, Braylon thought. I’d hate to be in his crosshairs. They’ll never see him coming. Braylon didn’t want anything to do with Reed, but shaking the detective would prove difficult.
    The next day Braylon was escorted into a private visiting room where attorneys usually met with their clients. When Dame Reed walked in Braylon stood in defiance.
    “Sit down,” Reed said, with authority.
    “C.O.!” Braylon called while shaking his head in disgust at the Detective.
    “If you ever want to see life outside of these walls again, you’ll sit down and hear me out,” Reed stated seriously, arousing Braylon’s attention.
    Braylon looked at Reed trying to read him, but he emulated a street cat so well that he didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve. Reed wore a serious poker face as he nodded to the chair, signaling for Braylon to take a seat. Braylon walked to the chair and sat down reluctantly as Reed sat down in the chair across from him.
    “At least you look like your own kind now,” he shot as he sat with both hands nestled comfortably behind his head. The cheap black suit that the detective wore revealed his true identity and the badge that was proudly clipped to his belt confirmed it.
    “Listen Kenneth,” Reed said.
    “Braylon,” he interrupted. “The name is Braylon.”
    “Right, Braylon,” Reed said with a smirk. “I’ve been following your case since the moment you were arrested and although you couldn’t convince a jury that the murder of your girlfriend was a mistake ... I believe you. I also believe that you would have never been caught up on drug charges if this incident never occurred. You’re smart ...”
    “Man what do you want?” Braylon said irritably as he sat back against the back of the chair and extended one leg outward. The detective was doing too much ass kissing for Braylon’s liking and was acting as if they had something in common. He didn’t even want it to be said that he had dealings with a cop. He knew what it would look like, him holding secret meetings with a narc, and he didn’t want to go down that road. The life of a snitch behind bars was something he didn’t want to experience. He didn’t need that label put on him.
    “I’m here to give you your freedom back,” Reed stated, unflinchingly.
    For the first time Braylon looked the Detective in the eye. He had his attention, but Braylon knew that his freedom wouldn’t be granted for nothing. It would come at a high cost.
    “Oh, yeah? How you plan to do that?” he asked sarcastically.
    Dame Reed rubbed his neatly trimmed goatee and leaned into the table as his hands folded on top of it. “I’m serious Braylon. There’s a program that you would be perfect for. We’ve established a drug cooperation task force that reduces, and in your case pardons, first time convicted felons. We don’t want you Braylon. We want to catch the men you used to cop from ... we are hunting the highest level dealers and suppliers,” Reed said as he stared at Braylon intently. “All you have to do is get in with the right people, make a few moves in the street. We will supply you with everything you need to play the part.”
    “I ain’t a fucking snitch,” Braylon replied.
    “I didn’t call you one,” Dame answered. “But you don’t strike me as a stupid man. My organization and I have chosen you out of thousands of inmates who