All language subtitles for Outlaw Chronicles Hells Angels - Documentary 02 [2015]

The Hells Angels are known
for their brute force,

their ruthlessness,

and for the trail of bodies
they've left all over the world.

People do not testify
against the Hells Angels.

People do not interfere
with them.

But why does a man
want to become a member

of the world's most powerful
and notorious

outlaw motorcycle club
the world has ever known?

The Hells Angels have become a
national criminal organization.

He joins for the lifestyle,

the bikes, the drugs,
the women.

Many have wondered
what it's like to party

with the Hells Angels.

These are the secrets
of the Hells Angels

from the man
who knows them best,

George Christie,

the longest-serving
chapter president

the Angels have ever had.

There's a lot of things
that have been said

about the Hells Angels.

I'm gonna set the record
straight.

This is the way I remember it.

This is the way it was.

What bonds a band of brothers?

In war, it's because soldiers
face death together,

but when there is no war,

some men need
to tempt death constantly.

The closeness to death is
what makes being a Hells Angel

so appealing.

It's there in everything
they do,

even their parties.

And like everything in the club,

there's a code of partying
that must be followed.

A Hells Angel party is nothing

like anything people
have ever experienced.

There's women.
There's alcohol.

There's drugs, fights.

Anything you can imagine
that can happen in one night

happens at a Hells Angel party.

You know, not only is
a Hells Angel party for fun.

It's a constant test.

You're being judged.

You're being groomed.

If you can't make the grade,

you're gonna find yourself
in a spontaneous situation

that you may only be able
to fight your way out of.

It's 1977.

George is a newly minted member
of the Hells Angels

and is going to a party with
his best friend in the club,

David Ortega.

I remember the first party
I went to.

I had just made member.

It was up in the Bay Area,

and there was a guy
that wanted to go with us,

and David and I weren't quite
sure he could make the grade,

but David was confident
this guy was a regular.

David used to talk about--

he would describe somebody,
he'd call 'em a regular.

That was something that they
would say on the prison yard,

and that was slang
for saying "The guy's okay,

you can trust him,"

and this was a big thing for us.

When you're a new member

going to another Hells Angels'
chapter

there's a lot of pressure
for George and David

to show they can party
like true angels.

We were not only presenting
ourselves on a personal level.

We were presenting
the personality of the charter,

so he told him,
"We'll take you with us,

"but you're not a prospect.

"You're not really
even a hang-around.

"You're just kind of
hanging on by a thread.

"You don't want to ask
stupid questions.

"You don't want to get drunk,

"and above and beyond
everything,

you don't fall asleep."

Bad things can happen to anyone

who falls asleep
at a Hells Angels party.

It's getting to be about00
in the morning.

We got this new guy with us,
and he's not in the club.

He's drinking heavily.

We don't know
what he's been taking.

Next thing you know, he's
looking at this oversized chair

in the middle of the party,

takes a seat.

About 15, 20 minutes,
he's snoring.

This is reflected bad on us.

We were new Hells Angels.

We were really getting
looked at hard.

We didn't want to do anything
that would set us back

or dent our reputation.

A lot of times you find yourself
in a make or break situation.

David sees some lighter fluid,

so David sprays the guy's lower
extremities from the knees down

and then throws a match on him.

I think he got a little loud
for a few minutes,

and everybody got a good chuckle
out of it.

David told him,
"Hey, I told you, man.

"Don't embarrass us.

What are you gonna do now?"

And that was the moment
of truth.

Was this guy gonna go
down the road on his motorcycle

crying like a baby?

To his benefit,
he came back into the party,

redeemed himself.

Everything was resolved,
if you will,

back in order.

Luckily, nobody got hurt,

but a good time was had by all.

Hells Angels parties
can happen anywhere.

A bar, an open field,
or someone's house.

But more Angels' parties
occur at the clubhouse

where the Angels always monitor
who's coming and going.

The best place, I always felt,

where Hells Angels' parties
took place

was the Hells Angel clubhouses.

The surroundings were rough.

The furniture
was hand-me-down stuff.

It's probably best
that it was because you got 250,

300-pound guys
named Tiny falling through it.

You don't want to have
brand-new, expensive furniture.

A Hells Angels' party

is sure to have plenty
of alcohol,

but illegal substances
are the true gas in the tank.

Ingredients for a good party
with the Hells Angels--

a lot of alcohol,
amphetamines.

In the old days,
bennies, meth, coke,

just the drug
of your choice, you know?

Mushrooms, LSD,
whatever it may be.

Stimulant drugs
involved in these cases

are known as amphetamines.

They are also referred to
by such slang names

as bennies, goofballs,
or copilots.

Bennies were Benzedrine.

A lot of the Hells Angels were
truck drivers,

truck mechanics,
loaders,

longshoremen,
and whatnot.

It was a natural
that these little pills

that would help you stay awake
and stimulate you for work

would also keep you up
and running for days at a party.

We'd take 'em
if we wanted to ride all night.

We heard about a party up north,

you'd drop some bennies and jump
on your bike and take off.

Benzedrine weren't
like the drugs of the future.

The drugs of the future
were taken

to a whole different level.

It's 1967,

and the Hells Angels are
about to play an important part

in hippie culture.

LSD helps you
to understand your own mind.

Early in the '60s,

when the Hells Angels
were in the Haight-Ashbury,

they were almost
seen as protectors

of the flower children.

It wasn't until
the Haight-Ashbury

started to deteriorate
due to a lot of drug use

that I think perhaps
the Hells Angels' role

became a little clearer
as to what exactly

they were adding
to the Haight-Ashbury,

which was the distribution
of LSD.

Members of the Hells Angels
learned early on

to use eye drop bottles
to carry their LSD.

It was a convenient method
for consumption

and a great way
to keep the drug hidden.

You know, when I first
came around the club,

there were people
that would stand around

with their tongues out,
and someone would walk around

with an eyedropper
dispensing drops of liquid

onto people's tongues,

and I didn't know
what the hell was going on.

If you got pulled over
by the cops,

you had this bottle
of eye drops on you,

and nobody thought anything
about it.

In reality, it was probably
the most powerful LSD

on the west coast,
and maybe the world.

In the 1960s and '70s,

some Hells Angels
are the main acid distributors

on the west coast,

and LSD has a major presence
at any Angel party.

It got to the point
where there was so much LSD

going around
that it become dangerous,

and then rules had to be made up

so people wouldn't get
accidentally dosed by LSD.

People would all of a sudden
start tripping out.

They--
"What the hell's going on?"

They're losing their mind,

when in reality, they may have
drank out of a beverage

that had liquid LSD in it

or ate something
that had LSD in it.

It was just
getting too dangerous.

People were having bad trips.

We were partying up
on Turn River one night,

and one of the guys started
having a really bad trip,

and, you know, we wound up
tying him to a tree,

so not only
would he not hurt himself,

but he wouldn't hurt
anybody else.

The thing with LSD,

the harder you try to control
your thoughts,

the less in control you become.

You know, you kind of
just have to go with it.

You know the old saying,
"What goes up must come down."

As the Hells Angels' appetite
for LSD grew,

some members started
to experiment with harder drugs.

You know,
heroin got popular real quick.

There were people over in
Vietnam introduced to it.

They were bringing it back
to the States with 'em.

It was really addictive.

You couldn't count on
your brother

if he had a heroin addiction.

All he cared about
was his next fix.

You know, we don't have a lot
of rules on how to party,

but heroin is something
we put our foot down with.

If you get caught using heroin,
automatic kick-out.

But still, we always were
looking for that perfect drug.

Just as with LSD,

when methamphetamine came along,

members of the Hells Angels
were instrumental

in its growing popularity.

Not only could club members
produce and distribute

the drug
to their growing clientele,

but use of the drug perfectly
fit the Hells Angels' lifestyle.

Methamphetamine became
the drug of choice

amongst some of the members
and other outlaw bike clubs.

You know, you'd reach
the end of the day,

but you had another 500 miles
to go,

hey, somebody break the bag out.

It seemed like a miracle drug.

But it was far from
a miracle drug.

The Hells Angels are
into a lot more than big bikes,

tattoos, and black boots.

Police!

It just turned out to be

a really bad idea.

In the early 1970s,

the Hells Angels discover a drug
unlike any other,

methamphetamine.

The street name is speed.

It's cheap, easy to make,

and the high lasts anywhere
from 12 to 17 hours,

and there's nothing
better suited

to the Hells Angels' lifestyle.

It is the biker's drug.

They control that drug.

Methamphetamine is a perfect
fit for the Hells Angels.

It is a stimulant-type drug
used to keep you up.

They put in long hours,
long rides.

A lot of times they end up using
methamphetamine just to stay up.

Methamphetamine became
the drug of choice

amongst some of the members
and other outlaw bike clubs.

You take it,
you can ride 500 miles,

get off your bike,
and go party.

It could give you the going
power when you ran out of go.

If you felt you were sitting
on top of the world

before you took that drug,

you felt you were sitting on top
of the universe

after you took that drug.

Back in the '60s and '70s,

these motorcycles
weren't the most comfortable,

and it took its toll
physically on you,

and meth was kind of
deadening your senses

and giving you the ability to go
for days and days and days.

Somebody would pass out
just from exhaustion.

What do you do?

We'd load straws full of crank.

Blow it up their nose,
wait 20 minutes,

and they think
they slept all night.

You tell 'em to get on
their bikes and let's go.

I'm going to term
methamphetamine

at that time
kind of a blue collar drug.

It was almost half the price
of cocaine

so that people could get a
longer high for half the price,

and that made it extremely
attractive for users.

Meth was the perfect drug

for the club's most popular
activity, a run.

The most popular destination
is Bass Lake, California,

a resort town on the edge
of Yosemite National Park.

You know, we had
the whole place to ourselves.

Back in those days,
people didn't stay in motels.

They stayed at the campsite.

There was a huge fire
with lots of party favors.

Party favors at runs
include bennies, pot,

coke, plenty of booze,
and of course meth.

For a few days every year,

the campgrounds at Bass Lake
become a scene of total carnage.

When you start combining meth
with all the other things

that are going on at a run,

the worst thing's gonna happen.

I know,
I was there when it did.

It's 1996.

The Hells Angels are gathering
for the annual USA run.

Angels from all over the country

are heading to
Steamboat Springs, Colorado.

We leave Ventura.

There was 20, 25 of us.

Everybody's got their bikes
running in tip-top shape.

On the third or fourth day
you're going through the desert,

and things start
taking its toll.

Not only on your motorcycles
but physically and emotionally

on the members
that are overindulging.

But for one member
with a heavy meth habit,

the long ride
is about to take a deadly turn.

We've got about 180 miles to go.

Then I noticed as we were
getting ready to leave,

this guy thinks everybody
that's looking at us,

taking pictures of us,
is law enforcement,

and beyond that,

in every shadow
there's a conspiracy

waiting to rear its ugly head.

He's tweaking.

He's thinking this because he's
been up for about five days now.

We can't get him to go to sleep.

A lot of these guys,

once they start
on these drug runs,

they don't want it to end,

and, you know, part of it is,
they just can't come down.

You know, maybe as a leader,
it's bad judgment on my part.

I'm thinking,
"Ah, he's gonna come out of it.

He'll be okay."

I tell everybody,
"Keep your eye on him.

We're almost there."

The Ventura club arrives

at their hotel
in Steamboat Springs.

We pull in.

Every room in this hotel
is now rented by a Hells Angel.

It was so crowded we had to go
up the road about three miles

to get an additional room

so we could get some sleep

because every room
becomes a private party.

So I decide to go to my motel
and get some rest,

but this guy decides he's gonna
stay in the midst of the party.

The tweaking Angel

is becoming
more and more paranoid.

Two members from another chapter
realize he is strung out on meth

and decide to have some fun
at his expense.

We'd been through
some heavy rain.

The guys had all
their saddlebags in the room,

and they had a lot of plastic.

You know, what you do
with that plastic

is you'd wrap 'em around
the saddlebags

to try to keep the water out,

and they were laying
the plastic down

and then unpacking their bags.

They see this guy's
over the edge,

but they don't back off.

They start playing mind games
with him.

So they're making inferences,

making fun of anything this guy
has done or said in the past,

and it's starting to eat at him.

This is part of mudchecking.

People play these mind games,

and they take people
to the edge of paranoia

and then bring 'em back again.

He was being mudchecked,

and I think he thought
that somehow he was failing.

So this guy's mind is racing
wild now.

He is tweaking hard.

He sees the plastic,

and he thinks it's for him.

They're gonna duct tape him,
lay him down in the plastic,

and execute him.

One of the members realizes

that he's getting pushed
over the edge,

and he starts reassuring him
everything's okay.

Just trying to calm him down,

and he's making some progress,

but this guy decides
he wants one last confirmation.

He wants a phone call to George,
meaning me,

and get a confirmation
that everything's A-Okay.

The member looks at his watch
and said,

"It's too late for that,"
meaning I'm in bed

and I'm asleep.

Well, that's not what
this guy's thinking.

He's thinking this is the end,

and it's already been signed,
sealed, and delivered.

That he's done.

There's something
that they don't know.

This guy's packing a gun.

He goes into the bathroom,

gets out his weapon,
checks it,

and comes out shooting.

No drug has had a greater impact

on the lifestyle of the Hells
Angels than methamphetamine.

It fueled their parties and
allowed them to ride all night,

but at one of the Hells Angels'
annual motorcycle runs,

the use of meth is about
to create a deadly scenario.

It's 1996,

the middle of the night
in Steamboat Springs, Colorado.

Two Angels are using
intense psychological warfare

on another member
who's tweaking on meth.

You know, these guys
are continuing

to play with his head.

He thought they were
gonna kill him.

Everybody was getting
a good chuckle

at this individual's expense.

In his mind,
they had the plastic out.

They had the duct tape
to secure his hand and his feet.

He knew they had weapons
because,

you know, on these runs,

especially when we're having
conflicts with other bike clubs,

almost everybody's armed
all the time.

It's a dangerous environment
to be partying.

They should have known better.

They should have seen
and realized

that they'd pushed him too far.

Paranoid and fearing
for his life,

he looks to escape the situation
he perceives he's in.

He goes into the bathroom

and comes out shooting.

He hits one member,

redirects his fire
to another member,

hits another member.

One Angel is shot in the leg.

The other, in the gut.

One of the members calls me.

"Two Hells Angels
have been shot."

The two Hells Angels
that were shot

suffered really severe wounds.

Bullets, the way they entered,
they travelled within the body.

I mean, they were just
terrible wounds.

The Angels call the paramedics,

but the paramedics
call the police,

who come to investigate
the shooting.

The phone rings again.

Now it's the police.

They want me down there.

They're in a standoff
with the club.

They couldn't storm the police
without risking a gunfight.

When I arrive on the scene,

I immediately negotiate
for the ambulances

to go in there
without law enforcement.

We've got a faction
of law enforcement

that knows they've got
to use me to get in there.

Otherwise, they're gonna
have a full-on gun battle.

Then you've got the SWAT guys
thinking

"To hell with that,"
you know?

"We out-gun these guys.

Let's just take over."

I wound up becoming a negotiator
for the club

and for the cops
with my own people.

These cops wanted to get
in there.

They wanted to start
their investigation immediately.

I've got the situation

with the shooter.

There is talk about
him not leaving.

He should get the same thing
back that he dished out.

I know I got to get him
out of there.

First thing I did is I told him,
I said,

"You know, you got to
take that badge off."

Folded it up,

placed it inside his shirt,
and I said,

"We're gonna
get on my motorcycle,

and we're gonna ride
out of here."

What was a great, fun run

in a really great location

just turned into
a terrible situation

for everybody there.

George rides off

with a meth-addled tweaker

as the paramedics are allowed

to take the injured Angels
to the hospital.

The remaining Angels keep
the cops out of the hotel room

long enough to destroy
all physical evidence

of the shooting.

You try to investigate
Hells Angels,

nobody's seen anything.

Nobody knows anything.

When the sun came up,
the evidence was all gone.

The members got out of there.

The blood was cleaned up.

Someone took a knife
and cut the drywall out

where all the bullet holes were

and then burned the drywall
in the fire.

I remember one of the things
we had to do

before we left the run site

was we had to replace
the drywall.

The manager wasn't worried that
there was a gunfight in there,

the manager insisted
we replaced the drywall,

so we made sure the drywall
was replaced prior to leaving.

The next morning,

George calls the club together

to discuss what should be done
with the shooter.

We went back to the motel.

We had an emergency meeting

because all of our members
were there,

and we voted this member
out of the club

because he broke a club rule.

You stab or shoot a Hells Angel,
you're getting kicked out.

It's an automatic kick-out
of the club.

I was hoping that this would
placate the group of individuals

that wanted retribution on him,

but his drug use continued
to spiral out of control.

He just never really
recovered emotionally

from that whole situation.

You've seen the pictures
of meth addicts.

You see what their teeth
looks like,

what their skin looks like.

Meth, everything everybody
thought it was,

well, it was completely 180 out.

That drug is a destroyer.

You see these tweakers

that are affected
for the rest of their lives.

It alters their brain pattern.

It alters their thoughts.

It chemically changes them.

They're never the same.

Between drugs and violence,

there isn't much in the life
of a Hells Angel

that won't kill him,

but it's far more likely Angels
will suffer injury or death

because of their choice
of vehicle.

The most dangerous thing
about being in a motorcycle club

is the motorcycle.

I have been in
a motorcycle accident.

A couple of 'em.

I've suffered a bleed
on my brain.

I had two hip replacements.

Broke my collar bone.

I broke my toes all on my feet.

All in one accident.

Angel clubhouses

have a motorcycle repair
and parts section.

By club law,

members must ensure their bikes
are in working order,

and there are serious
consequences

if you break down during a run.

It was really important

to have your bike
in top running shape.

You want the tires
in good shape.

You want the throttles
in good shape.

You want the brakes
in good shape.

You want the whole bike,

the maintenance on it
first-rate.

You're going 80,
90 miles an hour

just inches away
from the guy in front of you,

the guy in back of you,
and the guy next to you,

and some guy gets a blowout
because he's got a bald tire

and he's in the middle
of the pack.

All the guys in the back,

they're gonna go over the top
of him.

I would say
there's a good possibility

that at least half of 'em
are gonna wind up

going down themselves.

You better to have
your bike first-rate.

A Hells Angel
protects his motorcycle

as if it's a part of his body,

and there can be
serious consequences

for stealing an Angel's bike.

Let me tell you how much Hells
Angels love their motorcycles.

Slave Lewie was a Satan Slave
from San Fernando Valley

who later became
a Hells Angel.

He was a legend
on the streets and in prison.

He was in Folsom Prison.

Everywhere he went,
everybody knew who he was,

and he was a big badass.

Slave Lewie had a canary
yellow Knucklehead.

He had the two Mikuni
carburetors on it,

slender front end,
the high bars on it.

Very customized.

This motorcycle was so sweet

that it was on the cover
of Easyrider Magazine

back in the '70s.

It was a very well-known
motorcycle,

and everybody knew
that it was Slave Lewie's bike.

Lewie, he had been
entertaining a woman,

or maybe
she was entertaining him.

I don't know.

He came out in the morning.

The bike was gone.

We found out it was retribution
against Lewie

for entertaining this lady
that night,

so they stole his bike,

and the guys that stole his bike

was this little bike club
in Simi

called the Freewheelers.

I have no idea
whatever possessed them

to mess with Lewie,

but, you know,
they had a lapse of judgment,

and I helped find it.

George and Lewie stop
at a garage

owned by
one of the Freewheelers.

They storm in and start asking
them about Lewie's stolen bike.

We go over to this little
makeshift shop.

It was a reasonable facsimile
of a clubhouse.

It wasn't much of a clubhouse.

It was just a little garage,

and they had
some bikes in there,

tools and whatnot.

We went in there
and confronted them.

They were being
very disrespectful.

Lewie thought,
"You know what?

This guy's gonna
need some convincing."

The Freewheeler claims

he doesn't know
what happened to Lewie's bike,

but he's about to find out
what happens to someone

who steals
a Hells Angel's motorcycle.

I saw Lewie looking
at the workbench

and on the workbench
was this guy's drill.

He had been doing
some metalwork

and drilling holes
in some metal.

Before anybody can even think
or say anything,

Lewie grabs it, drills it
through the guy's instep,

and then pulls it back out.

Skin, bone, blood.

This guy was screaming
and wailing,

but, you know,
it really swerved a purpose

because the guy's memory
came back.

It's 1977.

George Christie is helping
fellow Angel Slave Lewie,

retrieve his stolen bike.

The bike had been stolen
in Simi

by this small bike club
called the Freewheelers.

We went out to this little
garage in Simi Valley.

We rolled in there,

and we started questioning
these guys.

I see Lewie
eyeballing the workbench,

and on the workbench
there's a drill there.

Pretty good sized drill in it,

and it's--you know,
it's about that long.

Before anybody
can even think or say anything,

Lewie grabs it,

drills it through
the guy's instep,

and then pulls it back out.

All of a sudden, this guy's
memory returned to him.

The Freewheelers give up
the location

of Slave Lewie's stolen bike,

which they had dismantled,

intending to sell it off
piece by piece.

And after they took it,
they realized what they did,

they didn't want anything
to do with it,

and they thought "We'll piece
it out and get rid of it,"

but, you know, we managed
to find all the parts.

Lewie put it all back together.

Lewie was a proficient
bike-builder,

but he said
it wasn't running right,

and he couldn't figure out
what was wrong.

He was riding it
one Friday night,

and he said then it came to him,
what the problem was.

He rode over to the guy's house
that had taken the bike,

knocked on the door.

The guy answered the door.

Lewie lumped him up
one last time.

He said, "You know, George,
and after that...

"I kicked it over,

and it ran like a top."

Absolute number one thing

in a Hells Angel's life
is his motorcycle.

Then you've got women
running a real close second.

When you first put the patch on,

the first thing
you're gonna notice

is men stepping aside for you,

giving you a wide berth,

but the ladies act
just the opposite.

They want to get close,
and, you know,

I experienced a lot
of attention over the years.

Not because
I am some dynamic guy,

but the girls are attracted
to the outlaw lifestyle.

Donna, how did you happen
to get attracted

to the kind of fellows
that are in the Angels?

Oh, I don't know.

Maybe I like
the dirty Levis.

Women like bad boys,

and Hells Angels are supposed
to be the baddest of all of 'em.

There are two types of women

allowed to enter
the Hells Angels' clubhouse.

The first are the old ladies.

Initially,
it was kind of like a warning,

the hands-off thing,
you know?

"That's my old lady."

Steer clear of her,
if you will.

If the girl is with me,
she's with me all the way.

I mean, if anybody tries
to mess with that girl

while she's with me,
I'll kill 'em.

I'll cut their throat.

Back in the '60s,

sometimes the girls would wear
property patches.

You know,
"Property of so-and-so."

Women have come around
the Hells Angels.

Some of 'em get treated
with respect.

Some of 'em get treated
with disrespect.

Situations occur
between men and women.

Club members are forbidden

to touch another Angels'
old lady.

If an old lady steps
out of line,

punishment is up to the Angel
who claims her.

I was talking to Chris.

It was00 in the morning.

There was somebody
about 30 feet to my left

beating his wife
to a pulp on the rock.

To keep a woman in line,
you got to beat 'em like a rock

once in a while, you know.

Women in the outlaw motorcycle
gang world

are predominately treated
as property.

Could be used to transport
the firearm or weapons,

to be used sexually,
possibly,

but again, they're predominately
looked as property.

Are some of the women
treated with respect?

Yes, they are.

It varies from club to club.

You know, often members
would get their women

to take the heat for 'em,
if you will.

They would carry guns,
maybe drugs.

They look a lot better standing
in front of a judge

than a Hells Angel member.

They also would work
for the DMV,

phone company.

We even had some of the girls
get jobs

in some sort of capacity
with law enforcement.

All in the effort
of gaining intel.

The other class of women

in the Hells Angels
are the mamas.

They are allowed
to enter the club,

but a lot is expected in return.

Mamas was a term
given to the girls

that had basically
dedicated themselves

to that particular charter.

They would do whatever
the members wanted 'em to do,

and they were expected
to do that.

Some Hells Angels got tattoos

to indicate various sexual acts.

There were different
colored wings

for different sexual positions
and conquests.

Most of the wings
had to do with a sex act.

Show me.
What do those insignias mean?

Well, the red wings,

I don't know how they--

to explain it to where
it could be publicized.

A blue wing could mean
you had sex with a cop.

Brown wings, a sex act
with a Hispanic woman.

Red wings,
woman was menstruating.

There was necrophiliac wings,

but I don't remember the color.

You know, you'd think
with the reputation and all

that women would be hesitant to
come around the Hells Angels.

It's just the opposite.

They're really attracted
to the outlaw lifestyle.

Beautiful women are just dying
to get on the back

of somebody's bike.

Still, some women wanted more

than the Hells Angels
would allow.

One of the mamas
in the Ventura club

has her heart set
on becoming a Hells Angel,

but there's just one catch.

The Hells Angels
don't allow female members,

but Ventura member David Ortega
doesn't set her straight.

Dave tells her that if she
wants to get in the club,

there's a surefire way to do it,

and that's go have sex
with everybody.

Well, she's gone through
about 25 guys,

and she starts hanging out
at the clubhouse,

and it doesn't take me long
to figure out what's going on,

but I want nothing
to do with her.

I'm trying to hold
my marriage together.

When the mama has accomplished
her mission,

she tells Christie
she's ready to get her patch

and become a Hells Angel.

So she comes to me,
and she tells me,

"You know what?

"I've taken care of everybody
but you.

"I want to get this over with,

and I want my patch,"

so I have to break her
the bad news.

Christie gets the full story

and tells the mama
she is not getting a patch

because there are
no female members of the club.

Later,
she files a lawsuit,

but it is dismissed
before it goes to court.

I think it's still
a man's world.

That women have no status.

They can't be members.

They don't sit in on meetings.

I think where
they become influential

is probably late at night
in the bedroom.

Many women are attracted

to the life of the Hells Angels

and live it for years
as mamas or old ladies,

but some do not walk away
without paying a heavy price,

and some don't walk away at all.

If a woman were to cross
a Hells Angel,

it could have dire consequences.

With these guys, anybody
can be in the wrong place

at the wrong time
and end up in a bad way.

You're not gonna leave there
feeling real good about yourself

if you're a woman.

The life of a Hells Angel

is defined by bikes,
brotherhood,

and fast women,

but an Angel can be ruthless

when it comes to defending
the life he wants to lead.

They have their criminal
enterprise,

be it narcotics or prostitution
or what have you,

flourish unimpeded
because of the fear

that attaches to the name
Hells Angels.

In San Francisco,

investigators say
the Hells Angels reputation

for violence has helped them
muscle their way

into the city's
big sex business.

It's 1976.

Hells Angel Otis Buck Garrett

runs a massage parlor
called The Love Nest,

which was allegedly
also a brothel.

Buck Garrett was the president

of the nomad Hells Angels
in California.

Not a big man,

but very commanding with
a lot of charisma.

Definitely made
an impression on me,

and I think anybody else
he was ever around.

At this encounter studio,
The Love Nest,

Hells Angels recruited girls
to work as prostitutes here.

24-year old Margo Compton
knows Buck Garrett

and asks for his help
in escaping her marriage

to husband Doug Compton,
another Hells Angel.

Garrett agrees to protect Margo
from her husband,

but his help
comes at a heavy price.

He forces Margo to perform
sex acts at The Love Nest,

and when she tries to leave,

he holds her six-year old
twin daughters as ransom.

After seven weeks of abuse,

Margo reaches her breaking point
and goes to the police.

24-year old Margo Compton

agreed to testify
against the Hells Angels.

Her testimony led
to the conviction

of the Hells Angel
who recruited her,

Buck Garrett.

After the trial,

Margo fears for her safety

and the safety
of her young dangers.

Authorities put Margo
and her children

into protective custody

in the rural town
of Laurelwood, Oregon,

but her location is discovered.

Seeking revenge
for Margo's testimony,

Buck Garrett enlists the help
of Robert Bug Eye McClure.

Robert was an Angel
hang-around with a drug habit.

In exchange for
two pounds of meth,

Robert heads to Laurelwood.

I don't think
the Margo Compton case

was something that anybody in
the club wanted to talk about.

It's a hard one to defend.

It's a hard one to swallow.

It's not something
anybody was ever proud of.

Two weeks after she testified,

someone found
where Margo Compton was hiding,

in this house in Oregon.

She was murdered.

Also murdered,
shot in the head,

were Margo Compton's
twin daughters,

Sylvia and Sandra.

The crime scenes
were extremely graphic.

The photos that I remember were
of the bodies at the scene.

The twins, as I recall,
were in bathing suits,

and there was teddy bears
near their bodies.

Those photos really galvanized
law enforcement

in a way
that I had never seen before

or since
because of the brutality,

and particularly
because it involved children.

There's a line that's crossed,

and killing children

is a line
that cannot be crossed.

Robert McClure and Buck Garrett
are convicted

and sentenced to four
consecutive life terms in prison

for the murder of Margo Compton
and her daughters.

But the actions of these men

have a profound effect
on the relationship

between the Hells Angels
and law enforcement.

There's no way
to explain or excuse away

murders of children.

It just can't be done,

but I think that the police felt
this was a great opportunity,

and I think they used it
as a tool to, you know,

push their agenda forward,

I think with the media as well.

You have the formation
of special squads of cops

that are gonna go after
the Hells Angels.

These are trained investigators.

They're running informants.

They're often at risk
themselves.

Good criminals are always
a step ahead of law enforcement.

They develop a technique.

We figure it out, and then we
figure out a way to overcome it,

and as we're figuring out a way
to overcome their last trick,

they're inventing the new one.

That's a fluid world.

That's part of the intrigue
and the challenge,

and what makes it hard
and what makes it beautiful,

when you win and succeed.

The Hells Angels' hard partying,

free-spirited lifestyle
is appealing to many,

but heading from the 1970s
into the '80s,

law enforcement begins
stepping up its efforts

to take down the Angels.

The club that was once
looked upon

merely as a motley group of guys

who enjoyed riding
and drinking beer together

has become a menace to society.

One of the things
I used to tell the club

was "We need to start paying
attention to what we're doing."

I go,
"There's people out there

"that are basing careers
on our prosecutions,

and we have to be smarter
than them."

Unfortunately, people
are too busy having a good time,

and everything unraveled.

It all went to hell.