Original subtitles

- Previously on "Mayans M.C."...

- Your mom.

[dramatic music]

- [grunts]

- What the hell is wrong...

[screams]

I'm gonna fucking bury you--

Ohh--

[spluttering]

*

- We went after Dennis and chased him onto Riz's land.

About 50 yards in, we hit soft earth.

It was an old tunnel.

- A tunnel to where?

- Vicki's place.

- Need a hand there, brother?

- [sighs]

- I got intel from EZ.

He told me Galindo was being detained at Calexico East.

- Galindo hasn't pinged in over 26 hours.

- See if anyone scooped him up.

- What about EZ Reyes?

- Your deal is still in play. For now.

- I'm not here to kill you.

- What do you want?

- Cooperation.

- Partners.

- [weeping] - He's home.

[whispering indistinctly]

- Miguel.

- Good evening, Mrs. Galindo.

[baby whimpers]

*

- You think I sold out your father.

- Who else could have known where he was?

- Maybe the one who took the picture.

Rodrigo.

- Was my father really an animal?

- We didn't start out that way.

- Pop.

- * It's too late [siren wailing]

* For tears

* Honey, it's too late

* Too late to cry

* Oh, but it's too late

* Oh, for begging me, baby

* Honey, it's too late, too late *

- I'm gonna take off a semester...

- * To cry

*

- Help Pop get back on his feet.

- Felipe will never let you do that.

- He needs someone.

- He's got Angel.

- [scoffs] - I'm here.

He's not a little baby. We'll figure it out.

*

- All I had to do

was look back to see the license plate.

- Don't, okay?

You can't keep-- - I should've known.

[sighs]

- * Oh, for loving me, baby

*

- It doesn't mean they would've caught the guy.

It would've changed nothing.

*

You can't blame yourself. You--

[rat squeaking]

[shrieks]

[soft dramatic music]

*

[bells tolling]

*

[tolling continues]

*

[people murmuring]

*

- [speaking Spanish]

- [speaking Spanish]

- [humming]

[cell phone buzzing]

[buzzing stops]

[phone thuds]

[sniffles]

- That tunnel is older than I am.

My grandfather helped dig it.

We get family in from Mexico.

- Is Vicki muling?

- Nah, she just uses it to help her girls.

None of them have papers.

That's what I was doing tonight.

Ella hadn't seen her baby in...weeks.

- You should have told us about it.

- But it's not a conflict, brother.

I'm not earning a penny off of it.

- It's an illegal fucking tunnel.

- If anyone else fell into that hole...

- We could have got a lot of people digging.

Literally--into the club, our shit with Galindo.

You fucked up.

- So...

what happens now?

- Club decision.

[dramatic music]

- [sighs]

[indistinct chatter]

*

[camera shutter clicks]

*

- This must be overwhelming.

How old is he?

- He's ten months. - He's beautiful.

Mine are all grown. Enjoy this time.

Kidnapping, jeez.

To have him taken from you,

that must have been awful, brutal.

- Yes, it was.

- You're under arrest, Mrs. Galindo.

Failure to report a child abduction.

- Wait. What? - Take the baby.

Cuff her. - Hey, stop.

[baby crying]

Cristobal!

You fucking culera. - Guilty.

[handcuffs clicking]

[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

* Every howl

* Marks the dead

* 'Cause a beaten dog

*

* Never forgets

*

* Never forgets

*

[bell tolling]

- Sí.

Pedro Espina.

- Ignacio...

[soft dramatic music]

*

[cup clatters]

*

[engine rumbling]

- Sorry. I tried not to wake you.

- I-I can't fall asleep.

I have to talk to my dad. He won't pick up.

- I'm sure he'll be back soon.

- You have to take me to Celia's.

- That's not my business.

- I lied to him.

Celia didn't hurt me.

I did this to myself.

- Jesus.

- I don't know why. Get even, I guess.

But--but if he does anything to her, then--

- Of course he's gonna do something.

What the fuck did you think was gonna happen?

- [sighs]

- Give me your mom's address. I'll go check on them.

[paper rustling]

- Thank you.

- Stay here.

[phone ringing faintly]

- [sighs]

[phone ringing, faint chatter]

- Mm.

No, that was the one.

So much more comfortable, don't you think?

Inspires honest discourse.

- I requested my lawyer.

- Did you have a lawyer at the border?

Calexico East?

- I was detained. It was a mistake.

They let me go.

- Ah, I guess, uh,

unfortunate events like that are quite frequent lately.

On behalf of my Uncle Sam, I apologize, sir.

- My lawyer.

- The request is being processed.

- Well,

until that process yields, Counsel,

I'm afraid all I can do is sit here,

enjoying the, uh...comfort.

- You don't mind if I speak, do you?

I'm a bit of a Chatty Cathy.

Did you have that doll in Mexico?

You're probably too young.

Oh--not that you played with dolls.

I didn't mean that, but it's okay if you did.

I embrace the rainbow.

Hmm.

An Ivy League-educated cartel boss.

If that's not a sign of a brave new world,

I don't know what is.

Hmm.

Dual citizenship, permanent residency in the US,

20-acre estate, paid for in cash.

[speaking Spanish]

Manufacturing interests, trucking,

commercial real estate.

Very impressive, señor.

No wonder your mayor and local law enforcement

turned a blind eye.

[knock at door]

I have to be honest with you.

We didn't contact your lawyer.

Under Homeland Security laws, I don't have to.

I can keep you for as long as I want to.

Your wife too.

[dramatic music]

*

- Miguel!

- Failure to report a kidnapping

is a federal crime.

*

- [sighs]

[knock at door]

- Hey, Boy Scout. - Hey, man. Letty's--

Oh, man.

She's dead.

- I know.

I fucking killed her.

Relax.

- What do we do?

- [speaking Spanish]

Shit.

Sorry, this--this must be bringing back

all kinds of crazy memories.

Your mom.

- I guess.

- What the fuck that's like, man?

Remembering everything?

- You learn to shut it down.

- Guess you gots to.

Can't change yesterday.

Can't plan tomorrow.

I might walk out of this building,

take a bullet to the head.

Life is here. This.

No matter what it looks like, it's all we got, right?

No regrets.

- Even for that?

- Especially that.

I didn't murder a whore.

Freed my mother.

Gave her some peace.

Took away the noise.

- That's one way to look at it.

- It's the only way, Ezekiel.

If I see this as a fuckup,

something horrible,

I lose my truth.

I gotta trust that all this shit

was supposed to happen.

- So we don't ever make mistakes?

- Of course we do.

Mistakes are more important than getting it right.

But they're still supposed to happen.

It all leads into the next right thing.

- I don't know, man. - What?

You--you thought you were supposed to finish school?

Get some important job?

A big old house up in Marin?

As fucked up as it was, shooting that cop--

that was your truth.

It had to happen.

It led you to this.

All that other shit,

it ain't real.

It ain't even a memory.

That's the fucking noise, man.

[dramatic music]

*

[cell phone buzzing]

- Angel.

- Yeah.

- Where the hell are you?

- I'm with Coco at his mom's.

- Celia having a circle jerk?

- Something like that.

- Tell Coco we need him back here.

We got a Templo sit-down.

- I'll let him know.

[rat squeaking]

- [whistles]

- Fuck you.

[rat squeaking]

- They need you at the table. - Okay.

How's my kid?

- Had her stay in my trailer.

I went to my dad's.

She's been calling you. - Yeah, I know.

Can't let her see Celia like this, you know?

I'm gonna tell her, but-- but not here.

- She's supposed to stay at the yard, but...

I better stick around.

- Thank you.

Once it gets dark, uh,

I'm gonna take her to the desert and bury her.

She fucking hated the desert.

*

- KJ. - What's going on?

- Galindo got cut loose from Calexico.

Potter was afraid it might be NSA, CIA.

Didn't want to take the chance of losing him again.

Picked him up last night at the house.

- Jesus.

- DOJ wants Galindo on a string.

Help spin the Mexican turmoil in the right direction.

They'll use any leverage they got

to force that deal.

- EZ's intel...

- Could be exposed.

[trunk lid thuds]

- Where is Cristobal?

- Nearby. He's in good care.

- I want to see my lawyer, and I want to see my son.

- You don't make demands.

You're lucky you're not in a cell.

- I am not in a cell because this is all bullshit.

You didn't charge Miguel, which means you just want something.

And you think you can use me as leverage.

- Why isn't she behind a table?

- Potter likes the informality.

- Eight years ago, you had an abortion.

Was EZ Reyes the father?

- Are you fucking kidding me?

- It's a simple yes or no question.

- No, Agent Bowen, it's not.

It's tactless,

ham-fisted.

And now you've put Ms. Thomas on the defensive,

undermining... the whole comfort strategy.

Apologies.

- Let's go, Bowen.

- Yeah.

- I assure you, that was not some kind

of good cop, bad cop routine.

I genuinely dislike that man.

- Just tell me what the fuck is happening.

- You're right.

We have no hard evidence.

There is nothing that can actually convict you

or your husband.

- Oh, that seems a bit counterintuitive

for the Department of Justice. - True.

But it could be our counterintuitive counterparts--

Homeland Security, Drug Enforcement,

the Mexican government.

- What do you want with Miguel?

- A future.

I don't want to bring your husband down, señora.

I want to build him up, empower him.

- Shit.

You just want him in your pocket.

- No.

We want a partner.

*

[door clicks open]

- Where's my wife?

- Two rooms down. Equally comfortable.

- Leave my family out of this.

- It's all about your family.

That's the only reason I'm here.

Seven years ago, I was moments away from shutting down

one of the largest arms dealers on the West Coast.

Culmination of a three-year RICO investigation.

The real IRA and their leather-clad salesmen,

Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club.

But before that could happen, fate intervened.

I was informed by powers greater than myself

that the Irish guns must keep flowing.

They were needed to ensure that the Galindo Cartel

didn't lose their grip on the Sonora heroin trade.

- My father's deal with the CIA.

- Yes.

Back when relationships with narcotrafficantes

were more, uh... synergetic.

- And you want that synergy with me?

- When that RICO case shattered, I...

nearly traded in my wings.

But...

I needed to understand what happened and why.

I requested a training sabbatical

with the Foreign Affairs Division in Mexico City.

I immersed myself in the culture.

I learned the language.

Got to know key players in Mexico's

ever-shifting power structure.

Five years later,

my, uh, somewhat obsessive nature

secured me the racist moniker...

It's ironic.

No, it's just sad...

how--how a little bit of knowledge

can be so powerful when surrounded by...

ignorance.

- Yeah, I don't give a shit.

Just tell me what you want.

- The thing we all want:

peace of mind, stability.

Yesterday afternoon, Los Olvidados pulled off

another coordinated attack on your heroin facility.

They are an ever-increasing threat

to your control of both Sonora and the East Cali border.

Growing stronger every day.

Inspiring a dangerous resurgence

of Neozapatism.

These terrorists, they, uh--

they live and die by their own rules.

There is never a compromise to put on the table.

- Oh, I've seen those compromises.

The CIA crushed my father.

That deal threatened everything--

his business, his friendships.

It put him in an early grave.

- Ah, but you

can change all that.

Turn blood into imported wine.

- [chuckles]

Fuck you.

Charge me or release me.

- So much for comfort and cordiality.

[door clicks shut]

- [sniffing] Oof.

- * And listen to the falling rain *

* I feel so lonely

* But the thunder will ease my pain *

*

* As I stand there and listen *

*

- Mom?

[engine zooming]

- * And everything is grand

*

* Fair weather blues, stay away from me *

[dramatic music]

*

[indistinct chatter]

*

- Hey. [speaking indistinctly]

*

[engine turns over]

*

[knock at door]

- Celia?

[knocking] - Shit.

- You there?

- Be right there.

- Coco!

- Hey. - Uh, hey.

- Sorry, I was taking a shit.

- Ew.

- Coco wants you back at the yard.

- I thought he was here. Why does he want me back there?

- I don't ask questions.

- Did you tell him?

- I didn't get a chance.

How'd you get here?

You two been spending a lot of time together.

- Again, ew.

- Take her back to the scrap yard, Chucky.

- Return trip. Gets no lip.

- Oh, great. Now we're rhyming.

- I'll be right behind you.

[body thuds] Oh.

My bad.

- [speaking Spanish]

[clears throat]

[Potter speaking Spanish]

Sí.

- Ah.

- Would you like more tea?

- I'm guessing things aren't going so well

in the other room.

You all seem a little restless.

- [chuckles]

- Please stop doing that.

- I'm sorry.

Spectrum stuff.

I'm just, uh-- just trying to understand

how you ended up here, Ms. Thomas.

- The bitch bringing me tea set me up.

- [stammers]

In the bigger picture, Mrs. Galindo.

I have no doubt that what happened

with you and Ezekiel Reyes was--

was devastating.

But you were young,

resilient, so smart.

Was it just a cosmic "fuck you" to the silly pale people

being crushed by their own mundanity?

I understand that.

I really do.

Needing something... bigger, bolder,

more dangerous.

- Or... I fell in love.

- Yes. Amor...

The uninvited guest to destiny's party.

So simple...

yet so...powerful.

- You're...

very entertaining, Mr. Potter.

And I'm sure, beneath that... mask of eccentricity,

you're just as scared as the rest of us.

But...

no matter what loss you threaten me with

or what gift you promise to deliver...

I won't turn on my husband.

And if you really did your research,

you would already know that.

[door clicks shut] [muffled arguing]

- Just make sure that we are all on the same team here.

We have to protect the process.

- And who protects EZ?

- We picked up Galindo because of your intel.

- Right after you told me our deal was still in play,

after you promised me that my men wouldn't be compromised!

You feed him to the tigers yet?

- KJ, don't do this.

- So if we don't punish drug traffickers, Mr. Potter.

what is it we do?

What's the badge for?

We risk our lives,

ruin our marriages, our health,

for what? - Let's go.

I'm leaving,

but I got plenty more intel, so...

maybe you can wait a few days,

read about it on WikiLeaks

or maybe in "The Washington Post."

I'm gonna blow this shit up.

[tense music]

- This is very unsettling

and dangerous.

- He's my problem, and I'll handle it.

- Your problem has become my problem,

so now...I handle it.

[dogs barking]

[truck door slams]

[cell phone buzzing]

- Hey, Pop.

- You with the M.C.?

- Just heading back.

- Don't.

- Why? What's going on?

- Not over the phone.

Get to the house.

- Keeping this from the club... it erodes trust.

And inside this current crucible,

that's very dangerous.

- [sighs]

- Anything you want to say?

- I didn't think I was... hiding anything.

But...I get it.

- Here's what's on the table.

We let Riz stay a full patch,

all privileges,

but he loses his office.

We vote in a new secretary.

And the club takes 10% of all that revenue from that tunnel.

That includes Vicki's whores. - That's...not my money.

- Then we shut it down...

and it's no one's money.

[dramatic music]

*

- All in favor.

*

[gavel bangs sharply]

*

- You ratted on Riz?

- To protect you.

Bishop thought you were the fucking mole,

that your covert family shit was about the rebels.

- I told them what it was.

- After I fucking saved your ass!

- You didn't do it to save my ass.

You did it to save your own.

And heat on me means heat on you.

- You don't take it to us first?

- I didn't have time!

I tried to fucking tell you.

I just thought that you--

- You don't think. You never do.

Your dance with Adelita-- your dick's gonna get us

into a shallow fucking grave.

- Hey!

Hey, Angel!

Coming to me first--

that would've been the respectful play.

But you had to be a bitch.

Tell Daddy, huh? - It wasn't just Angel.

It was all of us.

- We all took it to Bishop.

- [laughs]

[spits]

You're all just a bunch of fucking pussies.

- You know you're gonna have

to kick the shit out of him, right?

- Yup.

- I'll catch up.

- Yeah, here you go.

- How do we know that guy isn't some kind of serial killer?

- Apparently, only a chronic masturbator.

- I didn't need to know that.

- The things I gave you on Galindo...

they were true but hardly enough--

- It's not about building a case.

He'll use it as leverage.

Show Galindo enough to make him realize

he's been under a microscope.

Get him scared.

- And this US attorney,

he'd give the cartel a name.

- He wouldn't have to.

If my deal's gone, I'll be back inside.

DOJ won't give a shit about protecting me.

- Neither will the DEA.

You'll be dead before you're assigned a cell.

- Jesus Christ.

- I never thought I'd say this.

But you need to run, primo.

Get whatever you got and go.

I can get you some IDs, a decent passport.

- Where is he gonna go?

- I'm not running.

If they found out it's me,

Angel brought me in.

The M.C. will think he's a part of it.

They'll kill him too.

- What are you gonna do?

[speaking Spanish]

- What is this?

- Most of it is the ramblings

of a beautiful mind.

You should, uh, just look at the highlighted entries.

[papers rustling]

- Who gave you this information?

- Someone we know and love.

Highlights. If they're corroborated,

could lead to charges.

I just...

need a simple acknowledgement

of your husband's participation in the crime

or maybe something similar.

Don't need a lot of detail,

just date and location.

- We really still doing this?

What is this?

- I apologize for the current state

of family services.

Budget cuts--awful.

This is the bullshit kidnapping charge

that will get thrown out in court.

But just filing it allows us to take away your son.

And with the backlog of cases...

- You can't fucking do this.

- Yes, I can.

See?

No more mask of eccentricity.

Just raw legal power.

A kidnapping case that dovetails into a border issue?

Unraveling that in this reality show?

Your son will be with us until the clown leaves the party.

- You can't do this--

- First draft. - All I'll need.

- Home screen. Hit comfort zone two.

- Gracias.

Here's the deal.

So many pages, I apologize. Legal ribbons and bows.

[folder thuds]

The meat of it:

we promise to keep you instated

as reigning heroin king.

You own Sonora and the East Cali border.

We'll also supply manpower and weapons

to crush Los Olvidados

and any, uh, cartel threats that might pop up.

We'll also get rid of any EPA snags slowing down your

Santo Padre Agra-Park project.

For us, we, uh... [clears throat]

We reinstate balance

and, uh, protect our interests.

Occasionally we might need your product.

Tends to be a valuable currency in certain markets.

And, uh... sometimes we'll need

information on certain associates.

Other "most interesting men in the world," like yourself.

But nothing to crush you or...

undermine your ascent to sainthood.

I know. "Charge me or release me."

- [crying] - What did you do?

- King Solomon.

An ancient move but an effective one.

The, uh--the folder she's looking at

is a kidnapping charge.

It won't hold up in court,

but it will be enough to keep your son in our care.

- You can't just take my kid. - Wake up, little Mikey!

Wake the fuck up!

You're living in Papi's world.

The other folder is dirt on you--

random shit, but with her testimony,

it's enough to put you in jail.

[sighs] So...

your lovely albino bride has a choice to make.

Her man or...

her child.

- You can't make her do that.

- You have five minutes to thumb through it.

If it's not signed by the time I get back,

you make her decide your fate.

- Oh, so is this part of your brave new world?

You really think this changes anything?

- That's the point, Miguel.

We don't like change.

We never have.

*

- [exhales deeply]

*

*

- [crying]

*

[engine rumbling]

[dramatic music]

*

- What are you doing, EZ?

[knock at door] [door clicks open]

- Mrs. Galindo? You can see your lawyer now.

[door clicks shut]

[engines rumbling]

- Ride okay?

- Bike is losing torque...

just like the fucking rider.

Talked to Devante a few miles back.

That shit with Galindo, it's getting more complicated.

Gonna need a full table.

- Yeah. We're all here.

- Hey, Taza. - What's going on?

[indistinct chatter]

- Who the hell was it?

- US Attorneys Office, DEA, Mexican feds--

full fucking parade, man.

- They charge him? - At that level,

you don't need charges.

- Devante just got done talking to the wife.

They rattled her.

She told them some very disturbing shit.

[engine rumbling]

- Is she okay? - I don't know.

She was talking to Coco for a while.

Then El Padrino showed up.

They're all in the Templo now.

It's tense.

[train horn blowing faintly]

[man rapping in Spanish on radio]

*

- [sighs]

*

- You want me to set this up?

I'll make sure we do it right.

- Needs to be on neutral ground.

Maybe the casino.

Private room.

- The prospect...where is he?

- Not sure.

- I'll find him.

*

[door scrapes open]

- Prospect.

*

Relax, Einstein.

Padrino's Road King, spitting oil.

Needs a new base gasket.

- Base gasket?

- Yeah.

- Okay. I'll do it right now.

- In the dark? - Or tomorrow.

I can do it tomorrow.

Put it on the lift.

I can do that now.

Okay.

- He's walking that fine line between genius

and just fucking weird.

[all chuckling]

*

- What about your brother?

- He's fine.

He doesn't know anything.

It's all good...for now.

- Okay.

- Don't worry, Pop.

- I'm here if you need anything.

- I know.

Good night.

[soft music]

- He wasn't compromised?

- No.

Angel told him that Galindo was cut loose.

Feds let him go.

- Our boy got lucky.

- That mean the DEA deal is still in play?

- If it is, I won't be his handler.

After today...

I'm done.

- Sorry. - It's okay.

Guess I'm gonna have to find another way

to work on my daddy shit.

Take care of yourself, Felipe.

- You too, son.

[door clicks open and shut]

[breathing shakily]

[crowd yelling]

[rock music playing on stereo]

*

- Come on, Angel!

*

[both grunting]

- Get off the fence!

*

[crowd yelling]

- Get up!

- Come on!

- Get up! - Get up!

[both grunting]

- Get up! Get up! Get up!

- All right, that's enough. End it.

[gunshot] [crowd exclaims]

- Way to go, boys.

- [chuckles] We good?

- [panting]

- Hey, hey? - Yeah.

- Yo, I got a cut, homey.

- I'm so sorry, my love. - There is no sorry.

We're in this together. Fuck these assholes.

- You talk to Devante and the lawyers?

- There wasn't much to say.

Everything Potter threw at me

was just "Beautiful Mind" bullshit.

- And the dirt on me? - [sighs]

None of the intel was real.

- 'Cause they have nothing. - Yeah.

But now they do.

[men speaking Spanish]

- Look, I won't let them do to me

what they did to my father.

- They own us, Miguel.

They can touch everything we have, everyone we know.

- Not everyone.

Look, these ignorant fucking puppeteers

are gonna find out what it feels like to be played.

I've got 2,000 forgotten soldiers

just waiting for a devil to lead them.

- Vámonos. - Vamos.

- Feliz viaje.

[engine turns over]

[slurping]

[engine turns over]

[candy rattles]

Hmm.

- You look good in that cage, man,

you know, like a ugly,

skinny, uh, Conor McGregor.

[laughter] - You're so fucking kind.

Thank you.

- What you think this Galindo sit-down's about?

- If we're doing it on neutral turf,

he has a third party.

He wants to make them feel safe.

- Feds? - I don't know.

But whatever it is, I gotta give Adelita a heads-up.

- You mind giving Celia a ride?

- Nah, we gotta head out to the desert anyhow.

- And I know who's digging the hole.

- I think you should make it heart-shaped.

- Nah.

You should make it look like a--like a big dick.

- [chuckles]

- It'd be a nice change.

You know, her being inside one

instead of one inside her.

[laughter] - Damn, bro.

- What? Too soon?

- Go be with your kid. Don't let her fuck Chucky.

- Yeah? - Hey!

- [chuckles] - [laughs]

[indistinct chatter]

[bell tolling]

- Sí.

- Aw, man, that's nasty.

- And you know the only thing oozing out this bitch

is come and wine coolers.

- That doesn't help.

- [grunting]

[rat squeaking] Shit!

[glass shatters] - Oh!

[retches]

- Damn! - You okay?

- Fucking rat.

[both grunting]

[giggles]

[man rapping in Spanish on radio]

*

[siren wailing]

Shit. Who is it?

- Local.

[siren wails]

[music stops]

[police radio chatter]

It's Franky.

- Should we let him fuck Celia?

[both laugh]

- What's up, Franky?

- You guys got a taillight out.

- Didn't know.

- Brothers' night out?

- Something like that.

- What happened to you?

- The same thing that's gonna happen to you

if you don't get that fucking light out of my eyes.

- What did you just say? - Hey.

I know these guys. - Well, I don't.

Step out of the car.

Both of you.

- Look, he's new, all right?

And very committed.

Just walk through it.

- Why you sweating, Gomer?

- Knees.

- Educate your rookie, Officer Rogan.

- I got them. You start on the car.

- Don't need to do that, Franky.

- Man, it's just a broken taillight.

Let them up.

- Then you cuff 'em.

- Once we're off the dash cam, I'll bring him up to speed.

- Holy shit.

[soft Spanish guitar music]

*

- You fucking kidding me?

*

- Dispatch, this is Dugman.

We got a 927 David with two male Hispanic suspects...

[rat squeaking]

[baby giggles]

[typewriter clicking, bell dings]