Original subtitles

PEÑA: Previously, on "Mayans M.C."...

The rebels already moved.

We're too late, Mikey. I'm sorry.

I want my pew full by end of day.

[speaking Spanish]

MIGUEL: How many spies we putting on the street?

This group? It'll be an even dozen.

I didn't know she was your baby sister, Coco.

She came in with one of our other girls

and said she was 21.

-I had her do a few scenes. -Your porn site?

Yeah.

You must be really desperate.

Shut the fuck up and get in the car, Mom.

Jimenez is worried about retaliation.

Just want a set of eyes on you.

I don't need a babysitter.

We never found out how the Samoans knew all

the details to our biggest run.

Someone in the M.C.?

I don't know.

[wings flapping, bat squeaking]

[insects chirping]

[bat squeaking]

Got something.

-How many? -Looks like a lone buck

coming over the hill.

Got it.

[indistinct chatter]

[lively music playing over speakers]

[man singing in native language]

♪

Is everything going good here, gentlemen?

-[chuckles] -Yeah.

We're good, Vicki.

♪

[men laughing]

♪

300 yards.

Moving northeast.

Wind's...

10 miles per hour, southwest.

Got it.

[gunshot echoes, indistinct chatter]

♪

That was close.

It was a high-powered pull.

Definitely wasn't Border Patrol.

-Hunters? -Or militias.

Same fucking thing.

♪

Did you hear that?

All the time.

If they're not tearing through my land

playing redneck rat patrol,

they're using the fence as a shooting gallery.

Alice Reed?

And her Concerned Citizen Coalition.

♪

'Sup, prospect?

Franky.

Serving and protecting?

-[gunshot] -Shit.

Go get the bad guys, Officer Rogan.

Oh, I'm coming back for all y'all motherfuckers.

We'll be here, fucking your favorite whore.

♪

[laughter]

♪

When's our boy ready to go back to work?

I can't get him to leave.

-[laughs] -I'm healing.

-He's faking. -[hollers]

-Whoa, whoa, look. -Hey, hey.

-He's laughing. -Oh, he's definitely playing.

There's only one way to find out.

[laughter]

Fucking psychos, man, come on.

Come on, come on. [speaking Spanish]

[all chattering]

♪

[coughing]

[choking]

[rousing Hispanic music]

♪

[gasping]

[coughing]

I thought the second shot was a kill.

No, the third one was.

-Go. -Shit.

-Here. -Go.

[engine turns over]

[tires squealing]

[engine revving]

[vehicle approaching]

[radio chatter]

[Franky sighs]

Shit.

So much for a little pussy and a quiet night.

[dramatic music]

♪

♪ Mother of exiles

♪ The torch of hope

♪ In the toss of the tempest

♪ Threw us medicine's rope

♪ But the brazen giant

♪ With limbs astride

♪ Blocks the golden door

♪ To the US of lies

♪ Screaming

♪ Damn your huddled masses

♪ Scrub our floors

♪ Cut our grasses

♪ I am a wolf

♪ A wild cur

♪ Cut from the pack

♪ With blood on my fur

♪ And every howl

♪ Marks the dead

♪ 'Cause a beaten dog

♪

♪ Never forgets

♪

♪ Never forgets

♪

[siren whoops]

[radio chatter]

[woman speaking Spanish]

-Our madam see anything? -Nah.

Heard the shots

but didn't know anything went down on her property.

Trigger could have been pulled half a mile away.

-You first on the scene? -Yes, ma'am.

I was here minutes after the shots.

Look, whoever it was,

they knew how to ninja the terrain.

Rogan was, um, checking in

on Victoria and the girls last night.

Public service.

Keeping them safe.

Well, your mother would be so proud, Franky.

[engines roaring]

[radio chatter continues]

BISHOP: Crime scene's a...

bit below your pay grade, isn't it, Mayor?

My pay is too low to be graded.

[chuckles]

Then how can I help you, Antonia?

[sighs] Well, first thing you could do

is stop being so fucking cheerful, Obispo.

Wow. I missed that.

We heard the shots.

-We were at Vicki's. -Jesus.

Am I the only one not getting laid at this place?

You've already got a hot wife.

Jumping the fence?

Yeah.

Fifth one in less than six months.

All taken out long-range, high-caliber, military-grade.

Local heroes.

Dropping wetbacks for Uncle Sam.

Yeah, that's what we thought.

-Can I get the evidence? -Yes, ma'am.

[sighs] Oxy spins it another way.

That's why we're here.

You think this is us?

-Scripts aren't our game. -No.

But your game is supposed to be the only game.

You see the hypocrisy here, right, querida?

Four dead Mexicans stay cold cases

'cause they look like collateral damage

from redneck patriotism...

but then you throw some drugs into the mix and--

Fuck you, Bishop.

I live in so many shades of gray

between you and Galindo.

Some days I can barely look at myself in the mirror

trying to justify my, uh, passive cooperation.

Guess the greater good keeps getting a little harder to see.

[radio chatter continues]

I'll dig into this from my side.

If the Feds get looped in,

not much I can do to protect you.

I know.

And if I find something...

I'm gonna handle this the way I do.

I know.

[indistinct chatter]

-You okay? -Yeah.

I've seen my share of dead Mexicans.

Yeah, well, this dead Mexican was muling scripts.

Oxy.

And it might not be the first one picked off for the cargo.

Well, we better figure out who's playing Oxy whack-a-beaner

before the DA pitches a tent in our backyard.

I know where you should start--

my neighbor.

Buenos días.

May I...

Of course.

Do you know about this?

-The feast. -Mm-hmm.

Yes, they do it every year.

It's an anniversary..

of the town charter.

They parade the Virgin Mary from the square to the church.

Music, food,

lots of drinking.

Is it a big event?

Big enough for Santa Madre.

Thanks.

That's good work, prospect.

Thanks, padrino.

I should be able to pull another mirror from the yard.

[upbeat music playing through radio]

You gonna ride straight through to Oakland?

Nah, I got business in LA for a day or two.

I'll be home by the weekend, though.

♪

How's the fit?

You and your brother?

That working out?

♪

Yeah.

Good.

You know, up north we don't let blood sponsor blood.

Loyalty can get messy.

♪

Bishop signed off on it.

I'm sure it'll work out.

Word of advice--

if a situation should present itself

that causes, you know, confusion...

between brother...

and brother...

you bring it to me or Bishop.

We'll help you out.

You understand?

Yeah.

Of course.

You're a smart kid, EZ.

Santo Padre needs that.

Put the club first.

I want to see a full patch on your back.

♪

Everything okay?

Yeah.

-Just... -[vehicle approaching]

Helping him with the ride north.

[horn honks]

From Taza.

♪

From a woman.

Did not like her.

♪

That guy still creeps me the fuck out.

Bishop wants us out at Vicki's.

What's up?

Nothing. Just some crazy chick.

She wrote you a note? Is she pregnant or infected?

[laughter]

[rousing Hispanic music playing over speakers]

♪

[pounding on door]

♪

[pounding continues]

♪

Picked a bad day to go vegan.

Oh, come on, that's funny.

Okay.

From Agent Jimenez.

Been bumped down to errand boy?

Step up from babysitting.

We have to talk to EZ.

He hasn't called.

You'll get the next bag of intel

end of the week, on schedule.

I'm not trying to fuck with your family, Mr. Reyes.

I get it. I got two boys of my own.

We're not sure what stirred up this new activity with Galindo,

but whatever it is may require a shift in how we proceed,

and that shift is as much about protecting your son

as it is our investigation.

The new contact info Jimenez gave me--

I didn't give it to EZ.

So if he's pissed off...

he should come at me.

Please give that to your son.

[lock clicks]

[quietly] Shit.

[sighs]

[engines rumbling]

[peppy music playing over speakers]

♪ Hey!

[horses neighing]

[engines roaring]

♪

[man singing indistinctly]

♪

[rooster crows]

RIZ: How's it going, Denny?

What's this about, Ariza?

Just want to talk.

-Where's your mom? -Maybe she ain't here.

Maybe she is.

[chuckles] Big day at Casa Reed.

First the good guys,

now the bad guys.

Or maybe I got them turned around.

So hard to tell nowadays.

Maybe you and the, uh, peckerwood patrol

are just humble servants keeping our border safe,

or maybe you're just a bunch of fucking racist yahoos

gunning down kids with high-powered rifles.

Listen, if you're talking about the shooting last night,

we already told the cops...

we don't know nothing about that.

Nothing more than our neighbors.

Although, it might be hard for some of them to notice shit

when they got a dick in every hole.

-[boys laughing] -Come on, Alice.

[tense music]

[indistinct chatter and announcement over PA]

♪

[cell door clanging, closes]

Come on, Bishop.

What the hell you care about some dead Mexican?

You running protection on civil rights now?

Cops found scripts near the body.

Oxy.

They think he was muling.

That changes it from target practice to drug running.

That does make it our business.

Alice.

Bish.

Boy Scout's got something.

The guy chatting up Alice.

EZ: He was in Stockton when I was inside.

Had rank in the woodpile.

Some sort of shot-caller.

-Brotherhood? -I don't think so.

His ink...

it was more military than Aryan.

If Alice is running scripts, she's gonna need a buyer.

That might be her friend in the fatigues.

Like my son said, we don't know shit

about any drug-muling wetback.

Now get off my land.

Let's go, Junior.

-See ya, Riz. -Yeah.

[peppy music resumes through radio]

♪

Stay on him.

See where he goes, who he meets.

-I'm with him. -[engine turning over]

♪

-Supervise. -Yep.

♪

I don't trust this bitch.

Yeah, that's a whole lot of hate

packed into a little ofay.

[laughs]

Why don't you have Creeper hang around one more day

over at Vicki's-- keep an eye on the girls?

All right, will do.

I'll sit by the gate, see who comes and goes.

-Good. -[engines rumbling]

♪

[horses neighing]

[indistinct chatter on TV]

[speaking Spanish]

[baby fussing]

PABLO: Okay.

[both speaking Spanish]

[mellow guitar music]

[speaking Spanish]

♪

[speaking Spanish]

Imperial County.

[speaking Spanish]

-Ah. -[dog barks in the distance]

Uh, anymore from our street rats?

No intel yet on the rebels.

There's still one kid MIA.

EMILY: Excuse me.

I know you're busy. I...

No, it's--it's okay.

[Miguel speaks indistinctly]

Oh, please, stay.

You should all hear this.

Uh...

This is research...

from media, military, and academic Websites.

It shows how the Taliban and ISIS infiltrate a town.

Take over from the inside out.

It...

it'll be a familiar read.

Los Olvidados...

is doing the same thing on the border.

First they position themselves as saviors.

The homegrown bomb for the invading disease.

It starts on the street,

in the coffee shops and bars-- word of mouth.

Then it spreads to social media,

local press, rallies-- just inciting hate

and rebellion, and...

it doesn't take much to shift the will of the broken.

And once that happens, they've earned trust.

They secure benefactors and begin recruiting.

It's...

the perfect mix of primitive

and high-tech warfare.

You did all this research?

I have to do something to help.

How does this help?

It explains why you keep losing ground to the rebels.

And if you don't change your tactics, I...

I just want our son back.

Well...

we really appreciate all this hard work, Ms. Galindo.

Don't fucking patronize me, Devante.

I'm not Dita or some pinche guera.

-I'm-- -Emily.

I'm sorry.

I've just tried to--

Please just hear me out.

Okay.

Go on.

[dramatic music]

♪

The cartel's most useful tool...

is power and fear.

That's the way it's always been.

That's what keeps you in control.

And yet every time you use that on the rebels,

they turn it against you,

securing themselves as saviors

and strengthening their message--

"Kill the devil, save Mexico."

You have to dismantle their rhetoric,

sway public opinion a different way...

a smarter way.

♪

You have to turn them into the devil.

♪

Here's where you can do it.

♪

[indistinct chatter]

[baby fussing]

Sweet Jane, it's good to see you.

[speaking Spanish]

Gracias.

Hey, hey, hey.

-[laughing] -[speaking Spanish]

[electronic game music playing on cell phone]

[both speaking Spanish]

[baby fussing]

♪

[indistinct chatter]

♪

[baby fussing]

[dramatic music]

♪

[engines roaring]

[heavy metal playing through radio]

♪

We're not here for you, Dennis.

Came to talk to your friend in the fatigues.

I got no friends here.

You guys have no idea what the hell you're stepping on.

Well...

why don't you fill us in?

[scoffs]

Don't.

♪

Where you going, featherwood?

♪

You should have listened to Dennis.

Who the fuck are you?

[all grunting]

[man singing indistinctly]

♪

HANK: Guys, we got eyes on us.

Inside, Dennis.

♪

Let's go.

♪

Prospect was right.

I didn't even see him throw the punch.

SEALs?

Maybe.

We got to find out who these guys are.

It's not just the Feds.

Last thing we want to do is complicate shit with Galindo.

Another player--

that's bad.

TAZA: Maybe we form a little coalition of our own.

Do some hunting tonight.

Then we do it with Kevlar and very quiet.

The shit we're hunting...

it's gonna shoot back.

[suspenseful music]

Where the fuck is our shooter?

♪

[engine turns over]

[motor rumbling]

[vehicle approaching]

Pop.

-Everything okay? -Yeah.

Feds don't know that the kid's been taken.

They're afraid that the cartel's gearing up

for retaliation.

They've been watching me.

Shit.

I'm sorry.

I should have told Jimenez right away.

You've been protecting Emily.

I got to head downtown, pick up a new mirror.

I'll bring Jimenez up to speed.

I should get back.

[engine turns over]

DEVANTE: Vandalize it, tag the walls.

How much time will they have in the church?

20, 30 minutes, depending on the procession.

My men will be quick.

Okay.

And as soon as we see it,

-you have to insert yourself. -Mm.

Publicly declare your outrage,

vow to repair all the damage...

Yes, I will be their savior.

-Hmm? -[knocking on door]

I have an update.

The youth group.

Give us a minute, hmm?

[footsteps departing]

-Emily. -Mm-hmm?

This was...

very smart.

Thank you.

-The kid that was MIA? -Hmm.

He came through. Must have swiped a phone.

Sent a text.

[speaking Spanish]

Adelita.

And this video was attached.

[baby fussing]

Cristobal...

[baby crying]

-Who's the nun? -[baby fussing]

NESTOR: That's one of the local Dominicans.

All the fucking money

my family stuffed into the pockets of that diocese...

[dramatic music]

[sighs]

♪

[indistinct chatter]

[lively Hispanic music playing over speakers]

♪

When was the last time he checked in?

The 11th.

Can't get through to him.

Galindo has the M.C. working double time.

Makes sense.

Galindo's son was kidnapped less than a week ago.

Jesus.

-BOWEN: Los Olvidados. -Do we know their demands?

I don't give a shit about the demands--

or for his kid, for that matter--

but these Zapatista wannabes

just dropped an opportunity in our laps.

It's time for EZ Reyes to win back the one who got away,

turn the wife while the family's still upside down.

I can't ask him to do that.

Excuse me?

I didn't know that you two had set up emotional boundaries.

I know him. He's gonna push back on this.

Then pull the damn deal.

Put him back on the inside.

-[engine rumbling] -He killed a cop.

♪

[car horn honking]

I'll make it work.

Good.

I got intel...

on his old man.

♪

[engine turning over]

You know who that is?

My boss...

Assistant Special Agent in Charge--

authority over everything done in the field.

Tracked me down today to have a sausage.

Then he gave me this.

Galindo's son was kidnapped.

I was gonna put it in the next drop.

I know you think I'm a prick...

second cousins or not,

but I want you to win here, EZ.

To walk away from this

with the life you were supposed to have.

Shit has slid downhill...

so fast.

The rebels were an X factor no one saw coming.

Now we need more than the things

that your photographic memory can record.

I don't understand.

You have to get close to Emily.

Convince her to turn.

What the fuck are you talking about?

Emily Thomas is an outsider.

She's Galindo's white prize to legitimize.

I'm not sure what's in it for her, but I do know

that losing a child will shatter any bond.

You need to be there when that happens.

[scoffs]

Guide her to us.

It's our best shot at Galindo...

And the only thing that keeps your deal alive.

♪

Then pull my deal.

Put me back inside.

I'll take my chances and serve the six I have left.

I'm not gonna do anything that puts Emily at risk.

You're making a big mistake, EZ.

Mm. Why stop now?

[dog barking in the distance]

♪

[door bells jingle]

[mellow music playing over speakers]

[door closes, bells jingle]

♪

[Celia sighs]

♪

-Happy? -Shut up.

[scoffs]

Got to talk to you.

Okay.

[man singing in Spanish]

♪

Then fucking talk.

♪

I-I know you had it rough, you know?

Gotten a raw deal.

What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

He's talking to me.

-I'm the raw deal? -Bitch, shut up.

Enough. Jesus.

♪

[sighs]

♪

[stammers]

I'm glad you're living here now, right?

But you can't go around telling people

you're my little sister.

Why?

Yeah.

-Why, Coco? -Shut up.

♪

[scoffs]

Fuck.

♪

Fuck. Unbelievable.

You don't want anything to do with me either.

[scoffs]

♪

[door bells jingle]

Told you. She's out of control.

If you had did what I had asked you 17 years ago...

she wouldn't be out of control.

She'd have a decent life with a decent fucking family.

Oh, so I'm that bad guy now?

'Cause I didn't give up my granddaughter

to some fucking stranger?

I was going inside, Mom.

Looking at five years, you know?

Baby mama was a fucking junkie. Adoption was the right thing.

And so was raising her as my own.

Bullshit. The only reason you pretended to be her mom

was so you could get that welfare check.

Maybe I wanted another child

'cause the last one I had is a piece of shit.

Then maybe you shouldn't have let every diseased cock

in Fresno turn your old gash into a cesspool.

♪

[door bells jingle]

Hey, I'm sorry. Uh...

I didn't want this to turn into...

whatever the hell that was in there, you know?

I...

I just don't want you to get hurt.

But you can't go around

telling people I'm gonna fuck them up.

Okay.

Okay.

Can you give me a ride home

so I don't have to listen to this crazy bitch?

Yeah. Give your little girl a ride home.

Get in some daddy/daughter time.

What the fuck is she talking about?

I'm your grandmother, kid.

Do the bastard math.

[car door opens, closes]

Is that true?

Fuck!

Shit!

Puta desgraciada.

Hey! Hey, stop! Stop!

Whoa! What the hell you doing?

-Just drive. -Uh...

[indistinct shouting in Spanish]

I'll suck your dick.

COCO: Puta desgraciada.

Leticia! Leticia!

[tires screech]

[horn honking]

[shouting in Spanish]

[cell phone rings]

Coco, Coco, Coco.

[foreboding music]

[high-pitched] Coco, Coco, Coco.

[faster] Coco, Coco, Coco.

Loco, loco, loco.

♪

[car door opens]

[Emily sighs]

When you marry into this life...

you make a choice--

either you live inside the circle...

you'll know everything that happens,

you'll see everything...

♪

But to survive...

you have to feel nothing.

Or you can live outside the circle...

♪

Know nothing...

and feel everything.

♪

And you chose outside.

Yes.

♪

Because a child needs one parent who's capable of love.

♪

I'm not inside anything, Dita.

This is about Cristobal.

I just want to help.

I understand that, but the choices you make now...

♪

As simple or innocent as they may seem...

they'll impact your life forever.

♪

And the life of your family.

♪

[car door opens]

[grunts softly]

♪

- ¿Todo bien?

-Sí. Claro. -[engine turning over]

♪

He said he was gonna see you today.

He did.

EZ's in trouble, Felipe. He needs your help.

He's got a decision to make,

and you have to push him in the right direction.

[sighs]

EZ can make up his own mind.

Yeah.

You got a good relationship with your boys.

I didn't have that.

My old man was a drunk.

Abusive.

You knew him.

A little.

I got shit to do.

At least with my old man, I knew who he was.

I don't think EZ and Angel can say the same thing about you.

Seems Felipe Reyes didn't exist before 1985.

Coincidentally, the same year you got married.

No birth records,

addresses, schooling.

Not a trace of you.

The only information I do have

is on your social security number,

and oddly enough, that belonged to a woman from El Paso.

She died in 1985.

My next step is to reach out to a buddy

who works for Mexico's General Prosecutor.

Have the PNR do a facial-recognition search.

What are you doing?

You clocked a covert DA surveillance

and almost took out one of my agents.

Think I'm not gonna look into that?

You don't know a goddamn thing about me.

That seems to be the point here.

You need to help your son.

Convince him to flip Emily Thomas.

It's the only thing that's keeping him and this deal alive.

I can't make him do that.

I won't.

Yeah, you will...

because if you don't...

everything your sons know and love about you--

and I'm guessing their mother, too--

they're gonna find out it's a lie...

and they'll never trust you again.

I'll tear your family apart.

[engine turning over]

[tires screech]

[gags, vomits]

[car beeping]

Fuck!

VICTORIA: You can access Alice's east cattle gate

from this side.

Then it's about 1/4 mile to the house.

BISHOP: Okay. Thank you.

[peaceful guitar music]

-Be careful. -Yes.

♪

Creep, watch her.

Nothing happens to her.

♪

You keep eyes on the front.

-I'll take the rear. -All right.

Come on.

[dramatic music]

♪

[horse neighing]

♪

[cell phone beeps]

[cell phone buzzes]

TAZA: It looks quiet.

Just the pickup truck in front.

Shades are down.

I don't see no shadows or movement.

There's no movement inside.

Might be empty.

TAZA: How do you want to do this?

Maybe we should ring the doorbell.

♪

-I like it. BISHOP: Okay.

We're going in.

♪

-Here we go. -[horses neighing]

♪

-[gunshot] -Jesus.

-[grunts] -Son of a bitch.

[all breathing heavy]

Doorbell was a bad idea.

DENNIS: Fuck you! -Shit.

That's Dennis.

[gunfire]

Go! Through the back!

-Go, go! -Go, go!

[suspenseful music]

[horses neighing]

♪

-[screaming] -Down! Get down!

-[wails] -Dennis.

We got him!

I want answers! Need him whole!

-Yeah! -On me.

-Fuck. -Shit.

♪

Kitchen's clear.

♪

Bedroom's clear.

♪

TAZA: Bishop.

[exhales slowly]

RIZ: Holy shit.

♪

COCO: Coalition's out of commission.

[sighs] Fuck.

♪

[panting, whimpering]

[hollering]

ANGEL: Stop running!

What the hell are you doing?

He was shooting at us.

[gasping, groaning]

[stammers, crying]

Did you do all that?

Do what?

At the house.

What are you talking about?

No?

[groans] It had to be Cole.

Jesus. Jesus Christ.

-Cole? -Who's that?

-The guy outside the bar? -[whimpers]

Where's my mom?

Cole--he the guy buying the scripts

you guys been picking off?

Uh, it just-- it just started as...

we were shooting illegals jumping the fence,

and then we found the ones with the drugs.

How do I get a hold of Cole?

[coughing]

Look, I'm--I'm really bleeding a lot here, guys.

Just--

Really bleeding a-- [groans]

What are you doing? Help me, please.

Where's Riz?

-[gunshot] -Oh, shit.

He was gonna bleed out anyhow.

Tell Bishop that.

Maybe he got away.

Shit.

ANGEL: We'll bury him on Riz's property.

Take his finger. We're gonna need it.

Seriously?

You're lucky it's not a new phone.

You'd be cutting off his face.

[groans softly]

[grunts]

[sighs]

TAZA: Nothing in the other rooms.

Alice--not here.

This was a military-style execution.

It was neat.

No brass, no prints.

Someone's trying to tie up loose ends.

And someone knew it would be in our best interests

to make this go away.

Using us to clean up.

[door opens]

-It's us. -Shit.

[sighs]

Jesus.

-Where's Dennis? -I lost him.

-He got away. -We heard shots.

Yeah.

He kept firing at us.

Freaked out.

Now we know why.

All right, pack 'em up.

We'll burn them on the other side.

[somber music]

♪

[door opens]

♪

[sighs]

♪

[siren wailing in the distance]

♪

[band playing lively mariachi music]

[indistinct chatter]

♪

WOMAN: Mucho gusto. MIGUEL: Mi esposa.

EMILY: ¿Qué tal? MIGUEL: Gusto verte.

[indistinct chatter in Spanish]

♪

-¿Conoces a mi esposa? WOMAN: Buenas tardes.

[indistinct chatter in Spanish]

♪

Anything?

Left two messages.

If the guy we want is actually named Cole,

he'll know we're reaching out.

We don't know nothing about this dude

except he's a stone fucking killer.

If we don't find a buyer for this heroin soon...

Los Olvidados will lose ground.

And without Adelita...

we don't have a solution to Galindo.

And this whole play to back the rebels falls apart.

And if the club finds out,

it'll be us on that couch with a bullet in our head.

Maybe it's time to rethink this.

[wood snaps, both grunt]

-[groans] -Shit.

[both cough]

You all right?

Jeez... [grunts]

Flashlight!

[groans]

It's a fucking tunnel.

A serious fucking tunnel!

[band playing festive mariachi music]

♪

[indistinct chatter]

♪

[all murmuring]

[light acoustic guitar playing cover "Sweet Jane"]

♪

Está muerta. Está muerta.

Hermana Jane está muerta.

♪ Standing on the corner

♪

Hermana Jane está muerta.

♪ Suitcase in my hand

[overlapping chatter]

♪ Jack's in his car

♪ Says to Jane who's in her vest ♪

♪ "Me, babe, I'm in a rock and roll band" ♪

-Emily! Emily! -[people crying]

♪ Ridin' in a Stutz Bearcat Jim ♪

♪

♪ Those were different times

♪ And the poets started rows of verse ♪

♪

♪ And all the ladies rolled their eyes ♪

MAN: Hermana Jane está muerta...

[woman screams]

♪ Sweet Jane

[crowd screaming and shouting]

♪ Sweet Jane

♪

♪ Sweet Jane

-[yelps] -Emily!

-[gasps] MIGUEL: Emily!

Emily!

♪

♪ Jack, he is a banker

♪ And Jane, she is...

Emily. Em?

Baby, stay with me.

You're okay.

I got you.

♪ And then they come home from work ♪

♪

♪ Sweet Jane

♪

♪ Sweet Jane

[upbeat Western rock music]

♪

[baby giggling]

[typewriter clacking, bell dings]

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