Free The Rampage of Ryan O'Hara by James R. Pera Page B

African Guerrillas over rights to a certain section of the exercise yard. In the ensuing melee, the Zapatas went to the assistance of the Whites and the fight quickly escalated into a riot. The prison SWAT team had to be called and, after tear gas failed to quell the disturbance, shots were fired that resulted in the death of Black Guerrilla inmate Clarence Newton.
    “After order was restored, it was discovered that two other inmates, Albert Jefferson and Anthony Upton, were also dead. It’s been determined that they died at the hands of the two rival gangs. Jefferson was found on the ground with a crushed skull, apparently the result of a forty-five pound weight disc being dropped on him. Upton lay nearby with a broken neck caused by a blow from a blunt instrument, possibly a weight-lifting bar.
    “Jefferson and Upton were serving life terms for the 1980 bombing death of San Francisco police sergeant Jack Oldham. They and other members of the radical Black Socialist Army, along with a female member of the Marxist group Lenin’s Legion, lured the sergeant and other cops to an abandoned house in San Francisco on the false report of a rape. Oldham was killed and two of his officers were wounded when the front porch blew up. A chase and gunfight ensued in which their female accomplice and the driver of the getaway vehicle were killed. Jefferson and Upton were captured after fleeing the scene.”
    Ryan smiled and said aloud to himself, “Thanks, Sal.”

CHAPTER
10
    O rlando and Inez Mendora were desperate. Their lives had been on a downward spiral since the day ten years earlier when their son, Pablo, went to prison. What little savings Orlando and Inez once had were gone, depleted by the attorney’s fees they’d spent in a futile attempt to see their son acquitted.
    Following the trial, Orlando suffered a series of heart attacks, which forced him to quit his job and take a small pension. The pension, combined with social security, was barely enough to buy food. There was nothing left over for rent or any of the other necessities of modern living. Inez was battling cancer and often had to forego treatment and medicine for her disease in orderto avoid dipping into the small amount of money they set aside every month for food. Their unpaid utilities had been turned off and they sat in their flat bundled in extra layers of clothing. They were sick, cold, and miserable.
    In a few days they would be evicted, and what lay ahead after that was anyone’s guess. The couple, known for their generosity to others, had received no offers of aid, food, shelter, or any of the other things they had provided to the have-nots in their neighborhood over the years. Their faith in humanity reached an all-time low as they realized that the friends they thought they had were really just fair-weather friends—here only when they were benefiting from Mendora generosity but unwilling to reciprocate in kind when their former benefactors fell on hard times.
    A knock at their door surprised them. No one had visited in weeks. Who could it be? Not the sheriff’s department. Those people weren’t due to oversee their eviction for a few more days.
    Orlando grabbed his cane and moved slowly to the door. “Yes, who is it?”
    “A friend of Pablo Mendora,” came the answer.
    Orlando knew better than to open the door to strangers, especially in this neighborhood, but the mention of his son’s name overruled his good judgment and he opened the door. The big man standing in front of him was very intimidating, but as soon as he spoke, Orlando knew he wasn’t there to cause any harm.
    “I’m sorry to impose upon you like this with no prior notice, Señor Mendora, but I’ve been in contact withPablo and he asked me to look in on you and see if there was anything you might need.”
    “
Por favor
, señor, please come in. How do you know our Pablo? Have you been in prison?”
    “No, sir. I haven’t. I knew Pablo before he went to prison. I’m a