Original subtitles

-Aaah! -Yaah! -Huh.

-Duh! -Uh! -Oh!

-Aaah! -(screams) -(high-pitched note)

All new Sunny. Wednesday, September 25 on FXX.

(high-pitched note continues, stops)

(motors revving)

ANNOUNCER: FX presents Mayans.

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

- It's Mini.

- Hola? Mini?

- She was watching from the rocks

on a sat phone.

[both grunting]

- [gagging]

- Three of my best men dead.

- That's a very dangerous 12-year-old kid.

- You have to take her to Dr. Cayman.

She's getting worse.

- We don't know that.

- Who's the old man?

- Felipe?

It's EZ and Angel's pop.

- His sons are Mayans?

- Yeah.

- I know it's a lot,

and I wouldn't ask if this wasn't--

- I know. A family thing.

Having me run background checks,

pull local estate records...

don't make me part of something I'm gonna regret, EZ.

- It's done.

The golden boy is free and clear.

You can help him pack his shit in the morning.

- Angel!

- They reached out at all?

- Not a word.

Almost eight months.

- This shit with you and Angel,

it's gone on too long.

I don't care how you do it. Work it the fuck out.

Now.

- We have to talk, Angel.

It's about Mom.

I know who killed her.

[lighter clicks]

- So you--you just been living with this?

- How the fuck was I supposed to tell you?

It's the first time in eight months

you looked me in the eye.

- Yeah, I get that.

So Pops know anything about this?

- No.

- [sighs softly]

Why you telling me now, man?

- [exhales]

When everything unraveled with Potter...

I know I betrayed you.

I know staying here in the club,

it kept that wound fresh.

The life everyone thought I was supposed to have,

the one I thought I fucked up...

None of that was real.

I'm not the golden boy, Angel.

I stayed because I was afraid to leave.

You and Pop...

It's the only thing in my life I know is real.

And the club.

I need to be a part of something.

- You didn't answer my question.

- I can't lose you, Angel.

- And this is the tie that binds.

You know, most people would either put a bullet in his head

or walked away from this, but this--

bro, this is fucking nuts.

You got arrest records,

family history, timelines--

Jesus Christ, you did a fucking psychological profile on him.

- Had to do something.

I know proof isn't what I know I saw.

Couldn't take it to the cops.

M.C.'s relationship with SAMCRO.

Couldn't take it to Bishop.

- And that look in your eye, brother...

It's the same look you had nine years ago.

Put you in this whole fucking mess.

- I don't know how to do this.

- You're not gonna let it go until you do.

Till it's finished.

And now...

neither will I.

[slow acoustic strumming]

*

- [speaking Spanish]

*

- [sighs]

[exhales sharply]

[dramatic music]

*

- * Mother of exiles

* The torch of hope

* In the toss of the tempest

* Threw us Madison's rope

* But the brazen giant

* With limbs astride

* Blocks the golden door

* To the U.S. of Lies

* 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 a debt

* 'Cause a beaten dog

*

* Never forgets

*

* Every howl marks a debt

*

* 'Cause a beaten dog

* Never forgets

*

* Never forgets

*

- Everything good?

- Yeah, I guess.

Where's Gilly?

- The Creep's on a scrap run.

Yuma.

- She doing okay?

- Yeah. She's upstairs.

- [speaking Spanish]

- Rode here together.

- That's a good sign.

- We're working shit out.

- Glad to hear that, son.

- I got a letter from Corrections.

Stockton PO.

Have to... clean up some parole paperwork.

Discharge shit.

Angel said he'd ride up with me.

- Lot of patches north of Berdoo.

Should take Coco and Gilly with.

- I was thinking maybe we'd go up alone.

Eight-hour ride...

give us a chance to keep talking.

- Yeah. Makes sense.

- Stay off the 10.

Still haven't cleaned up our Samoan problem.

- Right.

- I'll make the ride-through calls.

- The clubhouse will be your first stop in Stockton.

We'll let Ramos know you're coming.

He'll sort you out.

- Okay. Thanks.

- Eat.

- Settling in?

- I suppose.

- Can't be any worse than living out of a tent.

- At least I could see the danger out in the desert.

Here?

I need a black light

to find the things that can kill me.

- [chuckles]

It's just until the merc heat is off.

- I know.

She's busy today.

Lots of kicks.

- That's 'cause he...

wants Mom to relax.

She's doing too much.

[speaking Spanish]

- What is it?

- [sighs]

I know you have your reasons

for keeping things on the down-low

about all this.

But I'd at least like to tell my family I'm having a kid.

- The family you've completely shut out?

You haven't talked to your father in months.

And every time I ask you what's going on with EZ,

you tell me it's historical.

- Oh, come on, querida.

You--your whole life is a fucking closed book.

I tell you just about everything.

Most of it you don't even want to hear.

You hardly tell me anything.

- And that's why we're perfect for each other.

Let's wait until she's born and we're all safe,

and then you can tell the club, your family,

and the whole world can know.

- Like I have a choice.

Gotta head up north for a couple days.

Help my brother out.

Historical shit.

[speaking Spanish]

Will be around if you need anything.

- Okay.

Um, I'm worried about Mini.

She's not going to handle this well.

We haven't been separated since I found her.

- The club's headed to the farmhouse

to help with the move.

I'll have Coco keep an eye on her.

- Thank you.

[gentle music]

[knock at door]

*

- [speaking Spanish]

- Sí.

*

- [speaking Spanish]

- Okay.

[foreboding music]

*

- So busy.

- Hope everything goes well with Dr. Cayman.

See you when you get home.

- Yes.

- Be right back.

- Estas bien? - Yes, perfecto.

- Let me know if you need anything.

- I'll be fine.

I just want to break ground already.

It feels like we've been working on this forever.

- Yeah, I know. And we will.

- Mm-hmm. - I love you.

- I love you.

Oh, and good luck.

- Yeah. - Hey.

Maybe Dr. Cayman can convince her to see a shrink.

- Maybe.

- There you are, señora. Gracias.

- A usted.

- You finish "Native Son"?

- Yeah, it was good.

Heavy.

I think I like "Wilderness"

and "Go Tell It on the Mountain" better.

- Fiction.

Makes all that shit a little more palatable.

- Truth I know.

- You on the road? - Yeah.

Headed to Stockton.

- M.C.?

- Mostly.

[engine idling]

We talked.

- Good.

- Pops.

- Good to see you, son.

Travel safe.

- The fuck you grinning about?

- No reason.

[engines revving]

[indistinct chatter]

- Iliana.

- Emily.

How are you, sweet girl?

- I'm good, I'm good. How are things here?

- Still catching up. Getting there.

Getting settled in at the new place?

- Mm, as settled as we'll ever be, I guess.

- I was hoping I would see you on Sunday.

I had lunch with your mother.

- I didn't know Diana was in town.

- Shit.

I'm sorry.

Are things still... - They are what they are.

- Agricultural park proposal?

- Yes, finally. - Wonderful.

Okay, just give everything to Marlin,

and he'll walk you through the process.

I have to go.

It's really good to see you.

- You too.

Sorry--Iliana, what-- what process?

Why do I have to be walked through anything?

- It's a projected calendar for the review.

There's already six bids,

and there's another week before the deadline.

Just want to let people know that it's not gonna be

a quick turnaround.

- There are six fuckin' bids?!

- Keep your voice down.

- When were you gonna tell us

that we had competition for the agri-park?

- Well, if you came to the town council meeting,

then you would have known.

- Oh, fuck that!

- We are barely back on our feet here.

This town has been off the grid for over two months.

Not a dime of aid.

$70 billion on a fucking wall,

but half a mile away,

we can't even keep the lights on.

- What does that have to do

with the other bids?

- The EPA rules,

the ones that miraculously changed

to accommodate your husband--

that didn't stay a secret.

The fire gave others time to put in competitive bids.

You didn't think big agri would come knocking?

- Well, we thought you'd protect us.

We had a professional understanding.

- I'm the fucking mayor, Emily.

I am not Santo Padre's cartel boss.

Look, things like this,

I have to answer to a comptroller,

city planner, town council--

- Well, there wouldn't be things like this

if it wasn't for my husband.

So answering to him should be your only concern.

[Spanish rap music]

[engines revving]

*

[rapping in Spanish]

[engines gunning]

- What's going on?

- The kid, Mini's, missing.

Looks like she ran away.

- When?

- Maybe an hour ago.

Must have slipped out the back.

- Adelita was worried about that.

- Mini hasn't been right since the thing with the mercs.

Blames herself.

- Does the kid know where Adelita is?

- Just that she's over the border.

- Might try to find her.

- She's headed north.

Closest town will take her about two hours on foot.

- We'll head out there.

Have your people comb the woods, huh?

- Might need a picture.

- We're printing something up.

- [speaking Spanish]

- And her?

- Gracias.

[indistinct chatter]

[soft dramatic music]

*

- What's that?

- Happy.

He's got a small house outside of Charming.

Freeway access less than a half-mile.

- What do you think we're gonna do when we get there?

Ring his doorbell?

Take him out for coffee?

- What are we gonna do?

- You trust me? - Of course.

[engines rumbling]

- You know this crew?

- Fuck no.

- Mayans.

Santo Padre.

We didn't get a courtesy call.

You're riding through our territory.

- Since when?

- We're on the state highway, man.

- Not anymore.

- Just getting gas and smokes.

- Don't bother lighting that.

You're not staying.

Why don't get you get back on your cholo chops

and get out of here?

The next time, make a call.

Comprende?

- Yeah, we get it.

Next time we call the Slow Boys.

- The fuck you just say?

- Sorry, he's just picking up

a lack of cognitive energy coming our way.

- What?

- Exactly.

- You poser fucking douchebags.

You guys watch some bullshit TV show

and think a vest and two wheels makes you a club.

Hm.

Guessing Brad and Todd here

got all their totally awesome gym bros

filling up their fucking table.

- Yeah.

At the little monkey clubhouse in their mom's basement.

- You don't know what-- - Shut the fuck up!

Jesus, man, you guys are an embarrassment.

Now go climb on your homocycles and get the fuck out of here.

- I can see those Tony Robbins seminars are really paying off.

- Man, fuck Tony.

Fuck his gigantic head.

- Yup.

[laughs]

- The Arcade! Let's go!

- Seriously?

- We got all day, little brother.

The ride's the only part that's never complicated.

Gotta make that shit last.

Unless you're afraid I'll kick your ass.

- Loser pays.

[engines roaring]

[phone ringing]

Mi amor, te como fue?

- Peña fucked us.

- What?

Stay here. Wait for my mother.

Have Paco bring the car.

- What's going on?

- Not sure.

I'll be with Emily.

- [laughs] Bitch.

- Remember Dad working in Del Monte?

- Sort of.

I remember the day Pops opened up the shop.

- Me too.

He was so happy.

- Eh, I don't know if Felipe's ever been happy.

- Growin' up in Sonora,

dirt fuckin' poor,

Pop had a rough life before he got here.

- We'll never know anything about that,

'cause our old man don't tell us shit.

Talks to that jar of ashes more than his own two fuckin' sons.

[machines beeping]

- Loser.

- [speaking Spanish]

- Gracias.

[indistinct chatter]

- Any luck?

- No. You?

- Nothing.

Checked the bodegas, lavandería, the post office,

and for some reason a bar full of local whores.

- If I was 12, that's where I'd be.

- [sighs] No one's seen her at the open market.

Knocked on a few homes as well.

- All right, let's finish up, huh?

- Shit.

Mercs on your six.

Hey.

- Looking for Adelita?

- Well, they're not here for spring break.

- Maybe we tell 'em we're here to help.

- Seeing us will create more questions than answers.

Stay out of sight.

Uh...

- Taza, you and Hank take point.

- Got it. - Go.

- [speaking Spanish]

- Choke! - Shit.

- [laughing]

Choke!

- There is no hole.

There is no hole.

- Boom, mothafucka!

I am a golden god! Fear me.

- Congrats, you're a mini golf pro.

- You should be proud of yourself.

- I am unfuckingstoppable.

- Hey, it's me...

- I'll have Rita reach out to Dr. Luna,

schedule a time for you to meet.

I think you'll really like her.

[phone ringing] - Dr. Cayman's office.

Can I put you on a brief hold?

- I know it's what Miguel and Emily want.

- We all want you to get better, Dita.

- Yes. Thank you, doctor.

[phone ringing] - Dr. Cayman's office.

[tense music]

*

- You sure you know how to put it in the hole?

- [chuckling]

[engines revving]

- Sounds like a lot of bikes.

- Yes, it does.

That's a lot of white guys on steroids.

- Yeah. They seem kind of pissed.

- So what's the plan?

- Just stay cool.

- He keeps the gun in the bedroll.

- I understand you had something to say

about our club.

- [laughs]

- Yeah, sorry about that.

Just trying to impress the prospect.

- We're going to impress something else.

- Go.

- Fuck. - Oh, shit!

[people screaming]

- [groans]

- Crazy shit!

- Screw you!

- Yeah, pretty fuckin' tough with a gun.

- Yeah, that's why I carry one.

[gunshot] - What the fuck?!

[crowd yelling]

[engines revving] - Come on, come on!

[Spanish rap music]

*

[laughter]

*

- He's on your right.

[tires screech]

[man grunts]

[sirens wailing] - Shit.

*

- Got to settle our shit another time!

Patches over badges, always!

- Yeah, but this shit ain't over.

*

[tires screech]

[indistinct chatter]

- [whistles]

They're on the move.

- [speaking Spanish]

- [speaking Spanish]

- Gracias.

- If the kid's here, mercs didn't find her.

Maybe she found a place to hide.

- Well, if she's hiding, we ain't gonna find her either.

- Call Pablo. Let him know.

- We gotta tell Adelita.

She might know where the kid would go.

- Yeah, I'll call Vic.

- Gun, gun!

- [speaking Spanish]

Put it down!

- [speaking Spanish]

- Whoa. - Shit.

- Let's get out of here.

- Team's arriving.

- Did you get a hit?

- Not exactly.

We showed a shop owner a picture of the kid.

He hadn't seen her.

Said two other guys showed up looking for her as well though,

wearing motorcycle vests.

- Mayans.

- Yes, sir.

They were just looking for the kid, not Adelita.

We were everywhere. Didn't spot 'em.

- You put the M.C. on-- - No.

Expand our watch list.

Track the M.C., where they go, who they meet.

- Yes, sir.

[engine starts]

- Putting bullets in the car--

you knew the shots would bring the cops.

It's fuckin' smart.

- Sometimes that happens.

- [chuckles]

- Did she say who else put in a bid?

- Yeah, big agri.

It has to be Cargill, maybe Dole.

Maybe the Chinese.

- I'll find out who we're up against.

- Then what?

- I'll handle it.

- What does that mean?

No.

You cannot bring the other world into this, Miguel.

- Well, what, you think these big corporations

don't break the law?

Their CEOs are all corrupt.

Fucking country club criminals.

- If you cross that line,

even just once,

you undermine all the work you've done to go legitimate.

You fuck up your legacy.

This isn't just about you.

It's about your son

and his sons.

I'll talk to Iliana.

I'll see what I can find out.

[tires screech]

- What's the matter? - Have you heard from Dita?

- What?

No, why?

- She's gone.

She finished with her doc

but never came back to the waiting room.

She must have left through a back door.

- Wait, left? Where?

- Sorry, Mikey, I don't know.

- Be right with you.

- Hola, Ignacio.

- [sighs]

Señora Galindo.

[bass thumping]

- [speaking Spanish]

- You good?

- Yeah, I'll get the bikes.

- Hoses around the back.

Gate should be open. - Thanks.

[siren blips]

- Santo Padre.

Huh.

You're a long way from home, amigo.

- You guys aren't letting all them Mexican rapists

hop the fences, are you?

- Little bit worried. - Yeah.

- I'll keep my-- - Prospect.

Don't play with the animals.

They might look dumb and harmless,

but trust me, they're some nasty motherfuckers.

- Fuck you, Medina.

[spits]

- That's Stockton's finest.

Welcome to northern Cali.

[knock at door]

- How's she doing?

- I think she'll be okay.

All she knows how to do is run...

from one place to the next.

- I get that.

- Do you think the soldiers saw her?

- No.

They did, they wouldn't have left.

- [exhales]

Thank you for letting her stay here.

- It's okay. We'll make it work.

- She feels safe with you.

- [woman moaning]

- Um, maybe we should, uh, keep the door closed.

[reflective music]

*

- [speaking Spanish]

- Cristobal.

- My boys...

They have a different name.

And, uh, no connection to my past.

- Our past doesn't just go away.

We're all connected, Ignacio.

- Felipe.

- All right. Thank you.

- Anything?

- [sighs] None of the hospitals or clinics have her.

- That's a good thing.

- I reached out to our friend in the sheriff department.

He's gonna put something out on the wire, keep it anonymous.

He'll turn out with something.

- Señor Galindo, she's here.

Pulling in now.

- Did you ever find out?

- Find out what?

It was nice to see you.

We should do this again. - Mamá!

[speaking Spanish]

- Gracias.

[engine starts]

[slow acoustic strumming]

*

- Come on, prospect.

We're grabbing some food.

- [woman singing in Spanish]

*

- Lead the way, pendejos.

*

[locks door]

- I gave her an Ambien.

She'll sleep.

Maybe she'll tell us more in the morning.

- What the fuck was that today?

I mean, why go to that shop?

See EZ's father?

- I don't know.

I've never mentioned anything.

I mean, she knows we get our meat from there sometimes.

She agreed to go to a shrink.

Your mom will get better, baby.

*

[indistinct chatter]

- [breathing heavily]

Dude...

get her phone.

Get this.

- What?

- Get...

and tape it.

- Are you serious?

- Yeah, I want to send it to my ex.

- [sighs]

- I want Annie to see that I found a new whore.

- Yeah, where'd you steal this from, Hope?

- Come here, come here, come here, come here,

come here, come here.

- This is so fucking... [muttering]

Come on, man, I'm starving. - [laughs]

- Hurry up before the truck leaves.

- Come in just to check it out.

- I gotta take a piss, man. - All right then.

- You may want to keep an eye on him, all right?

- Yeah.

- All right.

Hey, prospect.

Recycle that shit.

Plastic and can-- in that one.

- Yes, sir.

- Andale pues.

[laughter]

- [grunting]

- Dude, you're so fucked up.

- I'm just misunderstood. - Hey.

- What the fuck...

[gunshots]

[dark music]

*

[tires squeal]

*

- EZ?

- Medina?

No! No, no, no, no!

Que pasol?

- Shit!

Medina...

Medina!

- [panting] - He's gone.

- [murmuring in Spanish]

- Search the woods!

[indistinct shouting]

- Let's get these motherfuckers!

[somber music]

*

[baby giggles]

[typewriter clicking, bell dings]

(hard rock music plays)

(rock music continues)

(motor revs)

(hissing)

ANNOUNCER: Mayans.

All new Tuesdays at 10:00 on FX.

You can't make people like you,

but if people don't respect you,

you can make 'em fear you.

I'll see you at the lake.

(gasps)

-(recorder playing theme song) -(babbling)

Pink eye!

(grunting)

(babbling)

Pink eye!

FRANK: Don't judge me! This is art!

(recorder hits sour note)