Original subtitles

(whimpers, crying)

(screams)

ANNOUNCER: AHS 1984.

All new, Wednesdays at 10:00 on FX.

(motors revving)

ANNOUNCER: FX presents Mayans.

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

- I understand you had something to say

about our club. [all grunting]

[gunshots] [people screaming]

- What the fuck?

[engine revving]

- Ileana's been borrowing money.

- Wait, are you gonna use this?

- I'm gonna offer her some help.

- That's called a bribe.

- I just thought maybe we could help each other.

- I fear our rebel queen now flies on the wings

of a golden butterfly.

- Palomo. - What does this mean?

- Potter knows you're involved.

He thinks he can shut down the uprisings

by destroying Palomo.

He wants me to get her dirty.

- [speaking Spanish]

- Me and the boy scout

gonna ride out from the cemetery.

Still gotta handle that parole shit.

Should be back in a day or two.

[dog barks]

- I'm coming.

[guns cocking]

- I think he missed you. [dog whines]

[dog growls, whines]

[shuffling]

[grunts] You know who we are?

[tense music]

*

Nothing?

*

- I don't need to know who you are.

- And why's that?

- Because when this is over,

either I'm dead, or you're dead.

*

[grunting]

[engines roaring]

*

- One sec.

[water running]

- How goes it? [sighs]

- It's getting there. [sighs]

Martin thinks we should lower our tax credits another 5%.

- Why?

- It increases the town's bottom line.

Plus, it makes us look less corporate.

Lets us play up "local boy wanting what's best

for his hometown."

- Right, and what does the local girl think?

- It's more out of pocket for us up front,

but I think it's smart.

[door clicks open]

- Okay.

[door clicks shut, footsteps approaching]

- Where are you today?

- South, that Potter thing.

I'll be late.

- Okay.

She has her shrink appointment today.

- Oh, shit. Uh...

[sighs] Look, Nestor can take her.

- It's okay.

Dr. Luna is in one of our buildings on 14th.

I'll deliver this, then take her.

Make sure she stays.

- Thank you.

[smooches]

- Miguel.

[soft music]

Please be careful.

*

- Always.

*

[door clicks open]

*

[door clicks shut]

[lively music playing over radio]

- [grunts softly]

*

[phone ringing]

*

Reyes Carnicería.

- Felipe, es Dita.

*

- [speaking Spanish]

- [speaking Spanish]

[dog barking]

- Anything in the bedroom? - Not yet.

[dog barks]

[drawer slams]

Didn't find much, just some old probation shit.

- Yeah, just these.

[objects clatter]

[sighs]

[sucks teeth]

Let's see what he knows.

[dog whines]

[dog pants, barks]

[dog whining]

[dog whines]

- Nine years ago...

[tense music]

Someone kicked open the back door

of my family's butcher shop.

Mom?

Shot our mother in the neck.

[gunshot echoes]

Murdered her.

[siren wailing]

*

I saw someone drive away in a car.

[tires squealing]

I remembered the car.

*

I remember shit.

*

I followed you that night.

[engine revving]

Chased you to the construction zone.

[panting]

I saw your face.

Hey! Hey!

I remembered...

every detail of it.

*

I know you're the one who killed our mother.

*

- [grunts]

[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

* Every howl

* Marks the debt

* 'Cause a beaten dog

*

* Never forgets

* Every howl

* Marks the debt

* 'Cause a beaten dog

* Never forgets

*

* Never forgets

*

- We know you were a triggerman

before you were Sam Crow.

You were Nomad, gun for hire.

- Who the fuck hired you?

[dog barks]

[inhales sharply]

[exhales heavily]

[sniffs] Mm.

- [growls]

[dog barking]

- Simple question.

We need a simple answer.

- Just a name.

- Fuck this. - Was it the cartel?

[dog barks]

Galindo? - What?

Why the fuck would Galindo want Mom dead?

[dog barking]

- [sighs]

[siren wailing]

[brooding music]

[truck rattling]

*

- I apologize for the rough ride.

I'm afraid traveling in anything comfortable

might stand out.

- I'll be okay.

Have we confirmed where we're meeting?

- Palomo's team will reach out with the exact location

once she's on the move.

How much do you think Potter really knows?

- Well, he's hard to read.

All that "intellectual enigma" bullshit.

My guess, you're still the prize.

The revolution is the immediate threat.

His fear of Palomo

is that she's somehow facilitating you.

Directly, indirectly...

he's not sure.

He's just going after the target he can see.

- Palomo.

[indistinct chatter]

- Good morning.

- Morning.

- I had Nestor drop off the book.

- I got it. Thank you.

- Thank you.

- Marlon will help you.

Just to the right.

- Mrs. Galindo. - Hi.

Marlon? - Hi.

This is everything? - Yes...

- Great. - I believe it is.

- Okay.

- I--if you want to start-- - Okay.

[funky music]

- [singing in Spanish]

*

[engine revving]

*

- I don't get it. What the fuck does this mean?

"Ignacio Cortina, Isabel."

Where'd you find this?

Why--why were you writing all this down?

- [sighs]

When all that shit with Potter was going down,

I found a lockbox in the house.

Had old legal documents, Mom and Pop's stuff,

a few pictures.

Isabel Varela, Ignacio Cortina--

those were their real names.

They didn't meet on some farm in Tecate.

Dad was a cop.

Policía Federales.

I saw pictures...

of Pop with Jose Galindo.

That's why I asked Happy about the cartel.

[sighs] I don't know anything else.

[book slams]

[blow lands] [grunts]

[dog barking]

[both grunting] [objects crashing]

[cell phone buzzing]

[both grunting] [blows landing]

[dog barking]

[engines revving]

- We know these guys?

- Gotta be the dude who flew past us.

- Swole Boys? I got no idea.

[engines revving]

- Call Packer. See what he knows.

[door chimes]

- We got some noisy friends. - Yeah.

Apparently they are, uh, Swole Boys. [chuckles]

- What the fuck is a Swole Boy?

- I don't know,

but they certainly seem to know us.

[engines revving]

- Looks like a lot

of chemically induced muscle mass, jefe.

- Come on, man, maybe they just want

to give us an escort to the border.

You know, white and brown,

all brothers under the patch.

[laughter] - Yeah, right.

- Just left word for the Reaper.

[engines revving]

- [exhales sharply] Close to 20 of them.

I don't know about any of you guys.

I'm fucking tired.

- Been a long week.

- We can stay local.

Ride the access road another five or six miles.

- I have a feeling that's what they're counting on.

- Yeah, we should try to stay in front of it.

- And if we can't?

- Then we don't.

[engines revving]

- That shit feeling better?

[engines rumbling, revving]

[engines revving]

[engines revving]

- Here we go!

[rock music]

- * Whoa

* Hey

*

[engines roaring, revving]

*

- What?

*

- [singing in Spanish]

- Shit, Riz.

- So much for the plan.

- Payback's a bitch!

*

- Hey, shithead!

[gunshot]

*

- Hey, stupid motherfuckers.

[gunshot]

[engines revving]

[gunshots]

- Let's go!

- Go! Go!

[engines zooming]

- Riz. - Shit.

[engines rumbling]

- Riz!

Ariza!

Hey. - [groans]

- He's breathing. - Hey, you with us?

- Yeah.

Yeah, what?

Oh, fuck.

I went down? - Yeah.

Just a little.

- Shit. [groans]

- Bring the van around.

- What the fuck was that, man?

- He said it was payback.

- Payback for what?

[tense music]

[cell phone buzzing]

- It wasn't my place to tell you.

Dad knew I saw it.

When I finally asked him about it--

- He said nothing.

- Yeah.

[sighs]

Everything that's gone down between us, Angel...

even if I could have--

- You should have told me.

He should have told me.

- Pop?

- Man, he never trusted me with anything.

Mom neither.

- Come on, man, that's not fair.

- Fair?

You have no fucking idea.

Fair.

Every time I walked into a room...

man, for as long as I can remember, Mom and Pop--

there'd be this-- this slight letdown.

You know?

Disappointment.

'Cause it was me instead of you.

[laughs, sniffs] Oh, man, saying it...

saying it out loud, sounds fucking pathetic.

But--but you live with that for 20 years or more...

- I'm sorry.

- [sniffs] It ain't your fault.

But sometimes, man,

I fucking hated you.

Just the sight of you.

It would be a reminder that I'm some kind of fucking--

you know, some idiot.

A fucking mistake.

- Angel, nobody ever thought that.

- Poor little Angel.

Nobody loved him.

- [inhales sharply]

[exhales heavily]

[panting slowly]

These are for his kills, right?

The smiley faces?

- Yeah.

- Which one you think was Mom?

- Your pick.

[dark music]

*

- [hollering]

*

[growls]

*

- I'll run some errands.

It's a double session, so I'll pick you up

in an hour, hour 15?

- Perfect.

- Watch the exits.

Please don't let her slip away this time.

- Yep.

[door clicks open]

- All right? - [winces] Yeah, that hurts.

Ow! Shit. - My bad.

- Heard about Medina.

My condolences.

- Thanks, man. - Does he need a doc?

- Nah, we'll get him home.

We got one that can sew him up there.

- What do you know about this club?

- Swole Boys?

They're out of a gym on the Southside.

They run the club from there.

Grease monkeys, muscle heads.

As far as we knew, they weren't outlaw.

- They got an outlaw problem.

- Yeah, they do.

I'm sorry this went down on my turf, brother.

- We got shit to settle.

You can be a part of it or not.

- [chuckles] Yeah.

Let's go burn down a fucking gym.

[insects and birds chirping]

- [chuckles] White guys, huh?

- [chuckles] Yeah.

[engines rumbling]

[door clicks open]

- Hi, you must be Dita. - Yes.

Oh, that's not necessary.

This session is how much?

- We can discuss all that later.

- Answer the question, please.

- My rate is $225,

but the billing's already been taken care of.

- That's $2,000.

- This isn't the way we do this.

- I'll tell you how we're going to do this, Dr. Luna.

My son and his demonio blanco of a wife

think that this is a good idea.

I can assure you, it's not.

You'll get that from me every week

and you can still bill my son.

- But I don't-- - Yes, I'm paying you to lie.

If anyone asks, I was here and I'm making progress.

- I can't do that. - Oh, I think you can.

And if you don't, I'll tell my son you're a quack.

He'll have you kicked out of the building,

ruin your reputation,

and then this cushy little "tell me your feelings" scam

goes away for good.

Don't analyze, sweetheart.

It's a win-win.

[mellow guitar music]

[door clicks open]

*

[cell phone buzzing] [dog barking]

- [sighs]

[sighs] His phone keeps blowing up.

- I know.

- Someone's gonna come looking for him.

- I know.

- [sighs] Fuck.

[dog whining]

I'm sorry, man. This was stupid.

I don't know why I thought that--

- Hey, hey, hey.

It was my idea to come here and do it this way.

This dude's just a fucking stone.

[dog barking]

Shut the fuck up!

[dog barks, whines]

[sighs]

- So now what?

- He's right.

It's gonna have to be him or us.

- Jesus.

[dog barking]

- Hey.

We make it look like a break-in.

[dog whining]

Gotta be hundreds of people with a motive to kill this guy.

Cops ain't gonna dig too deep.

[dog barks]

Hey.

We get the guy who pulled the trigger.

- [sighs]

Without ever knowing why.

- Some shit, little brother, we're not supposed to know.

[dog whining] - [sighs]

- [breathes deeply]

Hey, we'll go at him one more time.

Then we end it.

[dog barks]

[dog barking]

- We're gonna kill you.

Make it look like a break-in.

[dog panting, whining]

We don't want that.

All we want to know

is who paid you to kill our mother.

[dog barks]

It was over nine years ago.

It doesn't make you a snitch.

It's our fucking mother. - Who was it?

Give us a name! - [hollering]

- Who? - [screaming]

- Who the fuck paid you? - [groaning]

[dog barking]

- Fuck that dog.

- No!

[dog barking]

He's just hungry.

[dog barking]

[dog whines]

- I'll blow off his legs one at a time.

Slice off his nose, his fucking tail.

Keep him alive as long as I can so you can watch him suffer.

[sniffs] - Just tell us.

[dog barks]

Please.

[dog barking, whining]

[soft guitar music]

*

- How are you holding up?

- We'll figure this out.

Montserrat's connection's go deep.

- I mean with all of it.

Juggling both worlds.

- If I'm being completely honest, uh...

I guess I'm enjoying it.

Profits are up.

I feel like I'm able to give something back.

And fucking over the DOJ?

Well...

that's, uh, my family's payback for what they did to my father.

- And your wife?

Is she enjoying it? - Emily?

Yeah, of course. She's fine.

Why?

- You went to school in America.

Set up your business there, married an American.

There's a reason

your life is on the other side of the fence.

Over there, you're Miguel Galindo,

venture capitalist and family man.

On this side...

you're Jose Galindo's son,

head of a drug cartel.

Every time you cross that border,

your wife loses a little piece of you.

- That's not true.

All the shit we've been through--

the shit you put us through...

Emily's strong.

She knows what we have can't be broken.

- [speaking Spanish]

[sighs]

[speaking Spanish]

- I don't think she needs to hear

your uplifting marriage insight.

[sat phone rings]

Sí.

[speaking Spanish]

Gracias.

[sat phone beeps]

[speaking Spanish]

- [speaking Spanish]

- [speaking Spanish]

- [speaking Spanish]

- Tell them first-class airfare,

hotel, per diem, usual shit.

- It's gonna be cold as fuck in the Urals.

- Yeah, they'll need to supply weather gear as well.

[muffled pop music playing]

Get the drop dead dates. - Hobart, check this out.

Just fired up the, uh, GPS grid,

and it looks like one of our trackers is on the move.

- Who?

- It is the Bronco.

The one that Galindo and the M.C. use.

- H-trade?

- I don't think so.

Galindo's world is southeast.

This blip, it's on the 20 and it's heading west.

- How long to intercept?

- They keep moving at this speed, hour 30,

maybe less.

[dramatic music]

- [sighs]

Put the Jared thing on hold.

- All right.

- We're on the move.

*

[dish clatters]

*

- Did you find it?

- Think so.

- That's it.

It's towards the bottom. An old fax.

*

- Fuck. - Jesus.

- Look at the next page.

*

- Pop.

- I fucked up.

I was supposed to kill both of them.

*

- The job came in through Packer.

- San Bernardino?

- Yeah, closest charter to the border.

- It came from Mexico.

- Yeah, that's all I knew.

Packer might have more details.

He's anal about keeping records.

But he won't have a name.

Don't work that way.

[brooding guitar music]

*

- Tell us what happened.

*

- Tell us.

- I came in the back.

Shop was closed.

It was just your mom.

Your old man must have left a few minutes before.

- Bank deposits.

- Your mom...

she wasn't surprised.

- What do you mean?

- I've killed a lot of people.

Some of them,

you can feel the inevitability.

They know it's coming.

Your mom knew.

*

I heard cars pulling up.

I shot her in the neck and ran.

*

[sighs]

After that,

I hung out near the border

waiting to hear if I should finish the job.

It was coming from Mexico.

I figured it was one of the cartels.

That night you chased me?

*

I thought that's who you were--

cleanup guy for the cartel.

I got spooked.

Didn't feel safe riding Nomad anymore.

That's when I went to Charming,

patched in to Sam Crow.

*

[sighs]

If someone killed my mom,

I'd put a bullet between his eyes.

[sighs]

*

[siren wailing distantly] [birds chirping]

*

- I guess a coffee shop would be...too obvious.

- My family insists that I never be left alone.

They think I'm at the doctor.

This building.

Thank you for coming.

- I got a visit from your son's consejero the other day.

- I hope Mr. Alvarez was not too unpleasant.

- No.

He gave me a warning...

not to do this.

- May I tell you a secret?

The reason my family won't leave me alone

is that they're afraid I might try and hurt myself.

The doctor in this building is...

is a shrink.

The fire.

- At the house?

- I was home alone.

I saw that...

beautiful, fierce blaze coming up over the hill.

It was amazing.

I felt like it was coming for me, Ignacio.

- Jesus Christ.

[sighs]

- I had nothing left.

I ignored the evacuations.

I hid in the wine cellar

when Miguel's men came looking for me.

Couldn't really feel the heat.

I must have been in shock by then.

There was a firefighter...

a young Mexican man,

looked like he was about 15.

He pulled me out of the flames.

- I'm sorry.

- I'm not.

I realized that the reason I was saved

is because I still have things I need to do.

- I guess I'm one of those things, huh?

- I never did a paternity or a DNA test on Miguel.

I didn't have to.

I knew he was your son.

- Jesus, Dita.

What?

[sighs]

Does anyone else know?

- No, of course not.

And no one ever will.

[cell phone alarm ringing]

Oh, session's over.

We'll do this again.

- Can't fucking wait.

[engines rumbling]

[indistinct chatter]

- Someone get the prez.

- Hey, check this out.

- Hey, get the prez.

[engines rumbling]

[faint pop music playing over speakers]

*

- This your crew?

- Yeah.

And I'd advise you to get off our turf.

[laughter]

- The fuck's wrong with you?

You know I got a gun in my kutte, right?

That little chase game today could have ended

with us blowing your club to fucking pieces.

- Yeah.

- You gotta stop watching "West Side Story," man.

It's gonna get you killed.

- It was payback.

- So you said.

For what?

*

- They're not here.

- [sucks teeth]

Two of your guys last week...

threw shots, started shit.

Never got finished.

- Fucking Angel.

- And the prospect.

[no audible dialogue]

*

- Fellas.

*

- Two of our guys rode through a few days back,

apparently lit the fuse.

Sorry, I didn't know.

- You just lost a brother. You had real shit to deal with.

- Look, we'll handle our side,

and we got your back on whatever you wanna do here.

- We're standing right here, man.

- Hey. [guns cocking]

- [sniffs]

- Get him.

Maybe you wanna have a little sit-down

with these motorcycle enthusiasts,

tell them how shit goes down in Berdoo.

- I just might do that.

Little lower education never hurt anyone.

[laughter]

- What the fuck does that mean?

- You know, maybe it's just the juice talking,

but I kinda like this kid.

- Yeah, he's dumber than a pile of hair,

but he's got balls.

*

- [groaning softly]

- Any idea who ran you off the road?

- With those fucking helmets?

Who knows? - Plus, he's wasted on Oxy.

- Yeah, that too.

[gunshots] - Ah, fuck!

- That'll do. - Hey, hey.

Hey. - Whoa.

- Everybody relax.

- [grunting] Shit.

[groaning]

- This was just tit for tat.

You should take your guy inside, call 911.

Tell them it was an accident.

- You be smart here.

We'll come back and work things out.

You got my word.

*

- Get him inside. - Fuck.

[groaning]

Fuck.

[scuffling footsteps] [groaning]

- [laughs, groans]

- Swole Boys.

- Fucking muscle heads.

- Well, we seem to make a lot of noise

when we ride through your town, brother.

- Appreciate you setting things off.

Clearly, we weren't paying enough attention

to shit in our own backyard.

- All good.

Let us know if you need anything.

[patting backs]

- See you, Packer. - See you.

- Take care, man.

[brooding guitar music]

- Find Angel.

- Yeah, okay.

[car door slams]

[engines rumbling]

*

[engines revving]

*

[children laughing and chattering]

[peppy music playing over radio]

*

[car doors slamming]

*

[car door slams]

- Palomo's a half hour away.

We should get you out of the sun.

[indistinct chatter]

[dog barking]

[tense music]

*

- [sighs] His phone's dead.

- [sighs]

You trust this guy?

If we cut him loose, you don't think

he puts a bullet in our heads?

- He's got just as much to lose.

- Like what?

His club knows he was gun for hire.

They helped set up the hits.

- Then we tell Bishop he killed our mom.

- He won't give a shit.

What Happy did was business.

What we did was personal.

We broke the rules.

- Oh, fuck.

Guess I didn't think it through.

- [sighs]

You mean I didn't think it through.

[whooshing]

[music and chatter echoing]

- Angel!

Angel!

- EZ, I'm right here.

[banging on door]

- Happy, it's Hallorann.

[banging on door] Hap!

You all right, buddy? - What are you gonna do, boys?

[tense music]

- This is both of us.

Whatever happens, you and me.

Yes?

- Happy, let me in!

[banging on door]

- Happy! - What's up?

- What the fuck happened?

Who the fuck did this? - Relax.

These guys saved my ass.

After I split off from you guys,

I got clipped by a logging truck

near Lonny's Shell.

Fucker kept on going.

- Yeah, we were on our way up north.

Hopped off the Five to fuel up.

Found him laying in the fucking dirt.

- Jesus Christ. [scoffs]

I was calling you.

- Been a little distracted. - Yeah, no.

Shit.

You need anything? What can I do?

- Pick up the dog shit in my backyard.

- Yeah?

Cool, I can do that.

[mellow guitar music]

[door clicks open]

[door clicks shut]

*

- I'll get whatever I can from Packer.

After that, we're clean.

*

[door clicks open]

[door clicks shut]

*

- Thank you.

- How'd it go?

- I like her.

You're right, I think she might be able to help.

- I'm glad, Dita.

I know it's not easy.

[dramatic music]

*

[indistinct chatter]

[both speaking Spanish]

*

[engines revving]

- [speaking Spanish]

- [speaking Spanish]

- What? How?

- They must have tracked us.

[speaking Spanish]

- [speaking Spanish]

- [speaking Spanish]

- [speaking Spanish]

[dog barking]

- [speaking Spanish]

- No. No, no, no, no, no.

No, no, Adelita!

- Let's go, come on. Let's go!

[tense music]

[tires screeching]

*

- [speaking Spanish]

[gunshots]

*

[gunshots]

- [speaking Spanish]

[gunfire]

*

- [speaking Spanish]

*

- Go.

What the fuck's going on?

- We got a tip Adelita was hiding here

in the village.

- She's inside?

- Yeah.

Alvarez is too.

- Queen bee's inside, gentlemen.

*

- [speaking Spanish]

- [speaking Spanish]

*

[gunshots]

- Clear! It's clear!

*

Coming out.

*

[zip tie scratches]

*

- Dead rebels.

*

- We've been looking for you, señorita.

- [spits] - [grunts]

- [speaking Spanish]

- Come on.

- She doesn't like us very much.

Call Potter. Let him know the job's done.

[melancholy music]

*

- [singing in Spanish]

*

- [sighs]

*

- [blows]

*

[baby laughs]

- [laughs]

[baby coos]

*

[eagle crying]

*

[car door slams]

*

[eagle crying]

*

- What are you looking at?

*

- Inevitability.

*

[engines rumbling]

*

[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.

(chattering)

(breathing heavily)

(screaming)

ANNOUNCER: AHS 1984.

Wednesdays at 10:00 on FX.

I'm gonna have to get that to you on Wednesday.

Said you'd have the money, man.

No, I know I did. I'm definitely gonna have it by Wednesday.

Definitely.

I'm gonna have to give you a touch-up.

What? Well, can it not be the face?

-It's gotta be the face. -Why?

It's gotta be somewhere where people can see it.

-Now, don't flinch, yeah? -WOMAN: Jason?

Whoa, whoa. Mate, mate. It's just my mum.

-Hi. I'm Lorraine. -Nice to meet ya.

-(recorder playing theme song) -(babbling)

Pink eye!

(grunting)

(babbling)

Pink eye!

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

(recorder hits sour note)

(up-tempo music plays)

-(man groaning) -WOMAN: Oh, my God.

Look at these hardwood floors.

(music resumes)