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."...

- Not many butcher shops

with a classic literature section.

- This about my son? - It's about you, Ignacio.

I have so many questions.

- I fucked up.

I was supposed to kill both of them.

The job came in through Packer.

- It came from Mexico.

- Yeah, he's anal about keeping records.

He might have more details.

I'll get whatever I can from Packer.

After that, we're clean.

- Morning. Marlon will help you.

- Marlon? - Hi.

This is everything? - Yes.

- Great. - I believe it is.

- Okay.

[camera snaps]

- Mercs got Adelita.

Gotta meet Alvarez and Galindo at the warehouse.

Angel, set up in the Ariza tunnel.

We need someone on comms.

- What? Oh, fuck no.

I gotta be on this.

- Until we table what happened in Berdoo,

you take a step back.

[objects crashing] - Man, fuck you.

[grunts] It's my kid!

Adelita--it's my fucking kid!

- You pick your crew. Go get Adelita.

- It's the fucking M.C.

[gunshot] - [grunts]

- Hold on!

[dramatic music]

- Oh, Jesus. Thank God. [sirens wailing]

- You have to go. I need you to keep it going.

We'll be fine.

- Please don't. - You have to let me go.

- We gotta go now! Go!

*

[birds cawing]

- Shut the fuck up!

I'm gonna fucking kill you.

[cawing continues]

What? They're very loud.

- Yeah, I guess so.

- You don't gotta stay here, man.

I'm not gonna fucking off myself.

- Actually, I'm just here to protect the birds.

- Yeah, well, the birds appreciate it.

- [groans]

- Breakfast?

[phone ringing]

- Got the call from San Diego.

Adelita's been delivered safe and sound.

She's now resting comfortably

at the 32nd Street Naval Station.

- Medical workup?

- Both mother and child are fine.

- Oh, that's something, isn't it?

And, uh, what magic...

have our friends in la Policía Estatal conjured up?

- Nothing.

They couldn't get anything off the car.

It was burned to the bone.

- Course it was.

- [sighs]

- Someone intercepted that car,

figured out Adelita was behind door number three.

- Policía said that when they got to the scene,

Adelita was just... standing there.

The other car was too far to pursue.

Must have been someone who was spooked by the sirens.

A local crew, a random carjack?

- Are 1989 Crown Vic wagons topping

the most stolen vehicle chart these days?

Big demand in the white trash mothers market, maybe.

- Then who goes to all that trouble

and leaves the prize behind?

The rebels would have taken on the cops.

Even your suspicion about Galindo,

if the cartel wanted her, they would have her.

- It's all a bit upside down, isn't it?

Oh, well.

You know what they say about drastic confusion.

- No, I don't. What do they say?

- You should have your plebes pack all this up,

head to San Diego.

I believe Admiral Davidson has accommodations for us.

Ahoy, matey.

[Outrageous Cherry's "Lord Have Mercy on Me"]

*

- * Oh, Lord

* Have mercy on me

*

* Oh, Lord, have mercy on me

*

* If I done anybody wrong

*

- Did you sleep at all?

- [groans]

Not really.

- What happens now?

- I suppose...nothing.

We just keep doing what we've been doing

and hope it doesn't come unglued.

- I'm sure that's why Adelita did what she did,

knowing you would keep moving things forward

without her.

- Excuse me. Just heard from Marcus.

His Escalade died. I'm gonna go pick him up.

Luis is inside.

Mondo and Batan are at the gate.

- Okay. Thank you. - Mm-hmm.

- [exhales heavily]

[door clicks shut]

I should get dressed.

[cell phone buzzing]

- [breathes deeply]

[ominous music]

- [speaking Spanish]

- [speaking Spanish]

[engine revving]

[gunshots] [both grunting]

- Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!

Fuck out here.

[men grunting]

*

- [grunting softly]

*

[both speaking Spanish]

- It's the trucks that passed us.

- Stay with them. Get help.

- [moans] - [speaking Spanish]

*

- Who the fuck are you guys?

*

[engines roaring]

[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

*

[engines rumbling]

[welder crackling]

- What up, Angel? - 'Sup?

Hey, bro. - You good?

- Mm-hmm. Where's Coco and Gilly?

- Gilly's with the Chinese. Coco's with his kid.

- Bailing Letty out? [laughter]

- Something to do with her school.

Should be back soon.

- Come on, brother.

Let's get you all cleaned up. You smell like shit.

- All right.

- So big brother... how is he?

- He's fucked up.

But not broken.

Something shifted.

- Keep him close.

- Absolutely.

[bleak music]

*

- We got a tail.

*

Black Escalade.

- Alpha, we got glue.

*

- Let's do it.

*

- Oh, fuck.

*

[engine revs]

[knock at door]

- Hi.

Come on in.

- The kids at school?

- Yeah, city bus.

Please, sit.

[siren wailing distantly]

- What's going on?

- Uh...after the deadline,

I began to look through the Agra Park bids

on my own, just curiosity.

- And?

- Looks like ChinAgra has the best offer.

They had the largest investment into the town.

Even their tax credits were lower.

- How is that possible?

- I don't know.

They were the last offer in.

They came in right under the wire.

- There is no fucking way ChinAgra came in

with a lower tax credit.

Someone must have given them info on the bids.

That's why they waited.

- I don't know. Maybe.

- Maybe?

Who was it?

- I don't-- - Yes, you do.

- Emily-- - Who has access to the bids?

City council, Peña?

- No one.

Those bids are locked in my office

until the deadline.

- Your office?

Fuck, so your assistant...

Marlon, he'd have access.

- I don't know.

Marlon wouldn't-- he wouldn't do that.

- Why not? You did.

- Fuck you. - Yes, you have.

- I should never...

I should have never taken your filthy money.

- But you did.

And now you owe me.

So you're gonna tell me what I need to know.

- Jesus.

Who are you?

- I guess I'm just a chip off my mother's block.

Marlon, he's the only one who had access to all the bids.

And if I can prove that he helped ChinAgra,

that bid is disqualified, yes?

- I guess. - Just--

- Yes. - How much time do I have?

- Tomorrow night,

the board will start reviewing the bids

before the town council meeting.

- Shit.

- Marlon...

what are you gonna do to him?

- Talk to him.

[dramatic music]

Here's some more filth.

*

[engine roaring]

[stealthy music]

*

[engine roars]

[crashing, glass shattering]

- [grunting]

[train horn blares]

[truck beeping]

[groaning]

[grunts]

[whispering] 243.

Two--two,

four, three.

[panting]

[rock music playing over radio]

*

- He asked me to be discreet,

so I wrote it backwards and in cursive.

- Good work, Chucky. - I accept that.

- Hey.

- Dude.

Relax, I'm just pulling my bedroll.

The fuck is this?

- Something happy.

[solemn music]

*

- I was in Berdoo yesterday.

Told Packer I had some bounty hunter up my ass,

questioning an old job.

Had him pull anything I booked through his charter,

make copies.

- He keeps files on that shit?

- Yeah, coded.

- Have to, a lot of pieces of the pie to be cut.

Keeps us honest.

- This one has the info for your folks.

- Five entries.

- What's this number mean, WU3459?

- Western Union.

- The last four digits ID the branch.

Hermosillo, Sonora, Mexico.

- Sonora?

Galindo?

- Back then, could have been Lobo Sonora too.

There were more players.

- Well, five payments, somebody's obviously trying

to avoid having a big number flagged.

- Most likely.

- This period of time,

Galindo Sr. was already under the DOJ's thumb.

If he wanted to get anything done

behind their backs, he'd have to hide it.

- [scoffs]

Bury it in household accounts.

[knock at door] - Hey.

Circle jerk's over.

El Padrino's in trouble.

- What happened?

- We'll fill you in.

- Too early for guns.

- He just picked up the rest of my parole shit from Stockton.

- You know me, always a helper.

- I got two men on the DL.

We could use a hand.

- Alvarez?

Jax would want me to help. I'm in.

- Can't tell you much,

other than where to point the gun.

- I'm okay with that.

You good with that? - Yes, sir.

[men grunting]

[man panting]

[blow lands] [man grunts, coughs]

- [gasping]

[blow lands] [groaning]

- Who attacked the station wagon in the desert?

- [spits, gasps]

- Who knew Adelita was in there?

- [panting]

- Who knew Adelita was in there?

- [spits]

Take off your mask... you fucking pussy.

[panting]

[blow lands] [men grunting]

- You hear anything else? - Nothing.

Nestor's still MIA.

We ran a check on Clearwater Towing.

It's a bullshit name. - Think it's a rival

or another cartel trying to make a play or--

- No, no, there's been no push

from any other family or region.

I think it's the devil we know.

- Potter? - And Hobart.

- The attack on his mercs. - Yes.

- But he got Adelita.

- And that confused him more.

Look, Potter hates not knowing more than he does losing.

- Could be Hobart on his own, wanting revenge.

We killed four of his crew.

[both speaking Spanish]

- Luis. - Perdón, Señor Galindo.

- Emily, what are you doing here?

- We need to talk.

- Here.

This is not a place where we talk.

- I am sorry, but I need you to--

- I don't care what you need.

I'm in the middle of something.

- Yeah, so am I.

- Go home.

- [grunts]

- Oh, my God. - Oh, shit, Nestor.

- What happened, Nestor?

- Get her the fuck out of here!

- You need to go now, Mrs. Galindo.

- [gurgling, moaning]

[coughing]

- We know it wasn't you. - [spits]

- We just want names. - [moans]

- Who attacked the station wagon?

- [panting]

- He's close.

- Fucking go.

- No! [groaning]

- I didn't wanna use the cell, Mikey.

Thought if this was Potter, everything might be tapped.

- I know.

- The signs on the truck, Clearwater Towing...

- They're bullshit. - They were also magnetic.

One of them slid up when it slammed into me.

Caught the end of a phone number underneath,

243.

- We can trace that. - Yeah.

That'd be part of the Valley.

Be 760 or 442.

- Put Riz on it.

- I'm gonna go find Potter.

- I'll have Creeper get him to the doc.

- All good. - Thank you.

Meet back here. - Yeah.

- Hey. - Hey, easy, will ya?

[cell phone buzzing]

[dramatic music]

- [scoffs] It's a minefield, bro.

Beautiful one.

Still blow you the fuck up.

*

- [yelling]

[nail crunches]

[groaning]

- Ooh. - [panting]

- You know, the little fingers hurt the most.

Heh, nine more to go.

Come on.

- Wait, wait! Stop!

- What? - Stop, man.

I'll tell you who it was. [panting]

We used... - Who?

- Brothers.

I'll give you a couple of numbers.

You text them.

They'll call you back.

I can get them out here.

I can get them out here.

- Why the fuck would we kidnap Alvarez?

- Look, I know Potter is upside down

about the attack in the desert.

He's been testing my loyalty the whole time.

Who else would have the stones to kidnap

my head of security?

- Okay, listen, Potter left this morning.

So if there was anything going on--

- What? What, you'd know about it?

Come on, agent, you're smarter than that.

The shit your boss does is above everyone's pay grade,

including his. - Okay.

I'll let him know you stopped by.

- Right...like the pretty little assistant you are.

- Fuck you.

- Yes, you have.

[cell phone buzzes]

[cell phone bleeps]

- We got 16 possible numbers in the 442 area code.

- Got 12 in the 760, most of them farms,

some industrial shit.

- I got a strange fucking text.

"For the Molino twins. Call burner.

Need you to meet me."

- "Very important job.

From MA."

- You got the same message? - I did, 20 minutes ago.

- MA has gotta be Marcus Alvarez,

but who the fuck are the Molino twins?

- Windmill.

What, you made me read fucking "Don Quixote."

Molino means windmill in Spanish.

- Twin windmills...

turbines.

- Fucking farmland.

- See what farms are running with wind.

Check it against the numbers.

- Sí.

[dramatic music]

*

- Andale. - I won't be long.

- Gracias, eh?

- [speaking Spanish]

[both speaking Spanish]

[door bell jingles]

[upbeat Spanish music playing over radio]

- You all right?

- Yes. Thank you for doing this.

*

- Bring any photos to share?

- No.

I didn't say anything to anyone, Felipe.

Miguel, Dita-- no one knows we talked.

I'm sorry.

- I appreciate that.

At some point, I hope that you hear the truth, Emily.

If not from me, then...

I'll wrap you something to take home.

- Thank you for meeting me. - Sure.

- Oh, no, I'm okay. It's...

- You're already shivering.

There you go. How's that?

- Good.

Thank you.

- You okay?

That was rough today.

- It was my fault.

Miguel was right. It was a mistake to go to him.

- Seemed pretty urgent.

- That's why I wanted to see you.

I know I have no right to ask you this.

- Ask me what?

- I need your help, EZ.

I need a favor.

- Okay.

- This Agra Park project

that Miguel and I are working on,

there's a bidding process that we should have won.

But our Chinese competitor,

they bribed a clerk in city planning.

They got inside information, so they edged us out.

I need...

Fuck, I'm so sorry. I'm--I--I--

- Just ask me, Em.

- I need this to work, EZ.

I need something to work.

This project's all I have right now,

and this asshole just undermined everything.

- This what you were gonna tell Galindo?

- Yes.

That's why it's a mistake to go to him.

I can't tell Miguel.

- Why? What's he gonna say?

- It's not what he's gonna say.

It's what he'll do.

I just need to keep the other world out of this.

- And what world am I in?

[soft music]

*

- Hopefully mine.

*

- How'd you find out about the bribe?

- A friend in city planning.

She got suspicious. She--

*

I just need somebody to talk to him.

You know, tell him he has been found out,

that we'll call the police

and we'll check his phone, his email records.

We just give him a chance to tell the truth.

No charges, he walks away.

- And if he doesn't?

- Well, he's go to.

He--well, he's just a clerk.

He's not--he's not gonna risk going to jail.

[cell phone buzzing]

[whispering] That's you.

[cell phone bleeps]

- My other world.

Yeah.

- Yo, you done strolling down memory lane?

You told me 30 fucking minutes.

- I'm finishing up. Why?

- We know where they took Alvarez.

Pick you up at the water tower in ten.

- We all good here?

[cell phone bleeps]

- I'll try.

- It has to be done by tomorrow night.

[brooding music]

*

- We sent the texts. Haven't heard shit.

- They sent in the big guns, huh?

Did Potter order this, or...

is it just you, Hobart?

*

- I'm just a solider doing whatever he's got to do

to stop the enemy.

[grunts] - [yells]

- Good thing you don't ride anymore, jefe.

- [yelps]

[panting]

Oh, fuck.

- The brothers have ten more minutes to respond.

If not...

I spike the other hand...

*

And then I chop 'em the fuck off.

*

[bird cawing]

[birds chirping]

[bullet whizzes] - [grunts]

- You shouldn't be here, Mikey.

- I'll be all right.

I've got you to dive in front of the bullet.

- Always would, always will.

[gun cocking]

- Can't see shit.

- Gonna have to get closer.

- Got this.

The three of us moving together

kind of defeats the whole stealth thing.

I'm not suicidal, you fucking morons.

Just let me do something right.

[tense music]

*

[metallic clanging]

*

Shit.

*

[bullet whizzes] [thudding]

*

- Time's up, consejero.

*

I think you and I both know

that those names and numbers were bullshit.

Gotta say, you're one fucking tough vato, man.

- And now that you've seen our faces,

think you know what happens next.

[suspenseful music]

*

[glass shatters]

*

Take point.

*

[crashing] - Oh!

[gunshots]

- Damn you, fuckers.

[gunfire]

Ah! Fuck!

[grunts]

- [moaning]

[coughs]

- Jesus Christ. - [grunting]

- Ah, what the fuck?

- [coughing]

- Okay. - [grunting]

[men yelling indistinctly]

[panting]

[both speaking Spanish]

[solemn music]

- [coughing]

*

- No, no.

*

- Padrino.

*

*

- [gurgling]

[coughing, wheezing]

- Those numbers weren't bullshit.

- [gurgles]

- You should've learned some fucking Spanish.

[grunting]

[indistinct chatter]

- Let it go. - Hey.

- I'll run it by Bishop, see what he says.

- Here you go. - Thank you.

[upbeat music playing over radio]

*

- Heading out?

- Give me a minute. - Yeah.

- This cleans shit up between us.

- This is cleaned up when we find out who did it.

- Yeah.

- We'll find out.

- I know.

Gonna go check on Pop.

- I'll come with. - Why?

Think I'm suicidal?

- Fucking...

fucking love you, bro.

- Love you, Angel.

- [exhales heavily]

[tools clinking]

- Relax, primo.

I'm the one that's getting stitched up, man.

- Don't fucking scare us like that again.

- Nestor, come over here, man.

- You feeling better? - Yeah.

What you did today...

gives loyalty a whole new meaning.

I'm proud of you, and I thank you, my brother.

- I'm just glad you're okay, Marcus.

- Now give me some more fucking morphine.

Let me get some sleep, huh?

[Astrud Gilberto's "Misty Roses"]

- * If I could be like misty roses *

*

* I'd love you much

- Sorry. Do you need the room?

I...I just didn't wanna wake your mother.

- No, uh, please...

Please sit.

[groans]

- Before you say anything...

today was my fault.

Like, since this whole thing began with Potter and Adelita,

I...

I enjoyed getting closer to you, Miguel.

More...inside,

as your mother would call it.

I felt needed. I--

- You are. You are needed.

- Yeah, okay, but...

like, the boundaries now between the worlds,

just harder to see.

- I know. I know. I know.

Um...

I'm so sorry, mi amor.

- It's okay.

- What did you need today?

- Oh, it was silly.

I ended up making one call.

It was handled.

- Hmm. - Nothing to worry about.

I'm gonna check on Dita.

[gloomy music]

*

[door clicks open and shut]

*

[line trilling]

- Mm. Mm-hmm.

[door clicks open]

Get out.

[door slams]

[trilling continues]

[cell phone ringing]

[trilling continues]

[phone clicks]

Have the NSA, ICE, and our friends at CISEN

pull everything they have on those two names.

[dramatic music]

*

[car alarm beeps]

*

[knocking]

[dog barking]

- Who is it?

- Ezekiel Reyes. Can I talk to you?

- EZ Reyes?

[chuckles] Shit.

All-Valley pitcher?

Marlon Buksar.

I was a few years behind you, played freshman ball.

- Oh, right. Right.

- Uh...oh.

Uh...heard about this shit.

You took a pretty hard left turn, huh?

- Yeah, I guess so.

You mind if I come in?

- Uh, yeah, sure.

My mom's in Punta Gorda with her friends,

ceramic class.

That's where she makes all this tacky shit.

- You live with your mom?

- I'm in between places, really.

Uh, actually, gonna put down a deposit

on a condo next week.

New units off the canal.

- Wow.

Things are going well for you, Marlon.

- Yeah.

What do you need from me, EZ?

- I just wanted to talk to you

about the Agricultural Park project.

- Why?

What, uh--

what the fuck does that have to do with you?

- Come on, man.

New car, new condo.

That didn't happen on a clerk's paycheck.

- Okay, um, I think you need to go, man.

[dark music]

- We know the Chinese got to you,

probably made you an offer you couldn't refuse.

Maybe they even threatened you.

*

Cops are gonna pull your email and phone records, Marlon.

Only one way you don't go to jail.

Tell your boss the truth.

You throw out the bid, it all stays internal.

No one has to know.

*

- "We" know?

You said "we."

Fuck.

*

The next best bid...

Galindo.

Emily Thomas.

Oh, Jesus Christ.

You're doing this whole tough-guy biker shit

for your old piece of ass?

Dude, she is a cartel whore now.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. What the fuck, man?

- The only person I'm doing this for is you, Marlon.

It's your ass on the line.

*

Now, get me your phone and your laptop.

- No.

*

No, fuck you.

You can't make me do that.

Why don't you get out of my house?

- Trust me, this isn't gonna go your way.

Even a guy living in his mom's basement

is smart enough to know that.

Give me the tech.

Just wanna look at it.

*

- Okay.

*

- Shit! - [grunts]

[lamp clatters]

[both grunting]

- [grunts]

[gunshot]

[panting]

*

[dramatic music]

*

[baby giggles]

[typewriter clicking, bell dings]

-We have to talk, Angel. -There's nothing to talk about.

-(gunshot) -What we did was personal.

We broke the rules.

-(rock music) * Yeah * -(gunfire)

(sirens wail)

ANNOUNCER: Mayans.

All new Tuesdays at 10:00 on FX.

(gasps, breathing shakily)

(footsteps)

(metal scraping)

ANNOUNCER: AHS 1984.

All new, Wednesdays at 10:00 on FX.

WOMAN: I want to thank you for joining the focus group.

-(crashing) -I just want to say thanks to the suits back there

for allowing us to be here.

He thinks that's a two-way mirror.

ANNOUNCER: All-new Sunny.

Wednesdays at 10:00 on FXX.

(electronic music)

All you have to do is say the first thing that comes into your head.

-Yep. -Politics.

Schmolitics.

-Family. -Schmamily.

-Feminine. -Schmeminine.

-Violence. -Schmiolence.

-Accident. -Schmaccident.

-Argument. -Schmargument. -Beef-and-black-bean.

Schmeef-and-schmack-schmean.

(electronic music)

I'm Brittany's dad.

I work in the security industry.

Have you ever killed anybody?

Uh, once.

I'm just kiddin', mate. I'm just kiddin'.