All language subtitles for 100-eng

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

- Guess I'm gonna have
to find another way

to work on my daddy shit.

Take care of yourself, Felipe.

- You too, son.

- What happened?

- I found out about

his DEA deal tonight.

You chose him over me.

You always have.

- I come here
with an opportunity.

You help with this,
and you won't need

to accrue points, Ezekiel,
because the deal

will never have existed.

You will be free and clear.

- We'll do whatever this thing
for Potter is,

put it behind us,
then you're free to go.

Hand in your cut,
then you leave.

The M.C., Santo Padre.

I don't care where you go.

- Los hermanos Reyes.

I've just sent each of you
a text message

with the details
of your task.

Miguel.

- Boy Scout left already.

- Guess so.

- You all right, man?

- Yeah.

- Pop.
- You okay?

Couldn't reach you
or your brother.

- Yeah.

We were in Arizona.

Indian casino.

- Okay.

The Serpent.

- Yeah, I got it with Angel.

Lot of shit went down
yesterday.

Some of it good for Angel
and the club.

- For you?

- Potter, the U.S. attorney...

Told us the favor he needs.

He wants us to kill KJ.

- What?

- Didn't say why.

Just needs someone
on the outside to do it.

- Your cousin said something
or did something.

Got them scared.

DOJ in bed with the cartel.

The last thing they need
is a whistleblower.

- Whatever the reason,
they want it done

by the end of the day.

If we don't...

then I'm back inside.

My deal gets exposed,
and Angel and I,

we're fucking done.

- You can't do it, Ezekiel.

- I can't put it on Angel.

He's in this because of me.

I already fucked him up enough.

- Look at me.

Son.

EZ.

You can't let Potter

turn you into a monster.

It's not who you are.

- What am I supposed
to do, Pop?

Huh?

What am I supposed to do?

- We'll figure it out, son.

We'll figure it out.

Promise me one thing.

You won't do anything.

Not till you hear from me.

- Yeah.

Okay, Pop.
- Promise me.

- Okay.

- Where's your brother?

- Should be on his way.

I split early.

Had to see my pops.

- Having a pachanga tonight.
After Templo.

Think Felipe can hook us up?

- Yeah, what do you want?
- Ribs, baby.

Boatloads.
- Uh, actually, mix it up.

Feeding 60, 70 people.

Take the van.
- Okay.

- Hey, prospect.

While you're out there,
head over to Vicki's.

Grab my travel bag, huh?
- Of course.

Anything else?
- I'm good, son.

- You riding back already?

- After the party.

- Chucky,
where's the prospect going?

- An errand.
- Can you give

a few less details?

- What fucking errand?
- I don't know.

I don't ask.

- Something going on
with baby brother

we should know about?

- Just family shit.

- I do something wrong?
- Nah, he's just road raggy.

Where's Leticia?
- Post office.

Picking up packages.
- When you see her,

tell her I'm back.
- Can doody.

- I like that
Johnny "Coco" Cruz.

- Where's Potter?

- Not here.

Meetings.

- Then maybe you can tell me
why I've been denied access

to the Reyes deal.

And as of this morning,
any files

on my outgoing agent
Kevin Jimenez.

- I wouldn't know.

- Yeah, of course not.

When's Potter back?
- Sometime before the end

of the day.

- Yeah, right.

- Hey, what's up?

Okay. I'll be there as soon
as I can.

- Galindo and I discussed
a lot of things

on the way back last night.

I trust him.

The shit that went down
with the rebels,

it changed him.

Made him stronger.

Working with the cartel
and Los Olvidados,

it'll be a good move
for the Mayans Motorcycle Club.

- We'll take that vote
at gran templo tonight.

But on the guns--
we should vote now.

- Who's supplying Galindo?

- Nestor has
a military contact.

for handguns, small arms.

Anything bigger, cartel gets

from the Israeli in Honduras.

- And the feds know about
these relationships.

- Yes.
Galindo will continue

doing business with them.

Keep it looking real.

- And Sam Crow can supply
the cartel.

Under the radar.

- Through us.

Feds will have no idea.

- Our club has a relationship
with Charming.

Volatile past
but a profitable peace.

I'm gonna make sure that I keep
that promise to Jax Teller.

- But it'll be our charter
handling the business

between Galindo and Sam Crow.

- So your table has
to be good with it.

- Questions?

All in favor?

No opposed?
- Good,

'cause Redwood's
on its way down right now.

Gonna show Galindo the merch.
- We'll show

those fucking gueros
how to party.

Oh!

You think that's funny?

No, wait!
Stop it!

No.

- Hey.

Everything all right?

Sounded worried over the phone.

- Yeah.

Gotta talk to you.
Let's go in the back.

- Okay.

Think you have eyes on you?

- Uh, maybe.

Why'd they take your badge?

Why not just a suspension?

- Insubordination.

Pissed off the wrong people.

Why you asking me this?

- This U.S. Attorney Potter,

is that who you pissed off?

- What's going on, Felipe?

You getting pressed?

- Uh...

just trying to make sense
out of all of this.

- Well, it doesn't make sense.

You were a cop.

You know it rarely does.

I can't imagine how hard

all of this must be for you.

But the fact that
they haven't blown up

EZ's deal yet--

it's a good sign.

Means Padre still needs him.

He can make his points.

You know the upside to this?

If there is one...

I realized...

I actually give a shit
about my family.

My Pops, too.

My boss was right.

It got personal.

That's new for me.

What is it?

Felipe?

- Sorry, I...

it's all, uh...

It's all...

hitting...

at once...
- I understand.

- Is there anything
that I can do for you?

- No.

I'm, uh...

You should go.

Head north.

Be with your family.

- Yeah.

- Gracias, eh?
- De nada.

- What are you doing?

- You talk to EZ?

About what we have to do?

- Yes.

- You know where he is?
- I'm not sure.

He called to place
the club's order

about an hour ago.
- Not EZ.

Jimenez.

Do you know how
to contact him?

Tell me, Pop.

- I don't know.

- If I don't do it, Pop,
he's--he's--

- I tried.

I'm sorry.

It made sense, but I...

I couldn't do it.

I wanted to, but...

but I'm not him anymore.

- What the fuck
are you talking about?

- You and your brother...

You can't just kill Jimenez.

- I can.

And I have to.

- No.

- I know why you protected him.

I get it.

It hurts, Pop.

Knowing how much
you and Mom adored him.

But I'm not fucking stupid.

EZ's special.

He doesn't belong here.

With me.

In this dead fucking town.

That's why I gotta do this.

You were right.

I made my choice
and I'm good with it.

Tell me where he is.

Jimenez.
Please, Pop.

Tell me where I can find him.

- Yeah.
- Ezekiel.

The hour draws nigh.

- I know.

- Do you know?

Well, in case you want to know,

I'm sending an address.

Your, uh, task
has a lunch date.

Should keep him there
for the next hour or so.

After that, he'll be
on the move...

and I may have
to farm out the job

to another independent player.

That leaves you and Angel--
- I know.

I'll handle it.

- Shit.

- Angel?

Fuck!
- Sorry, cuz.

Let's go.

- It's okay, it's okay.
- The hell is going on

out here?
- Shit.

- No, no!

- I wasn't expecting
ninja-level work,

but this...

Little sloppy, boys.

- You knew his boss
would be here.

- I didn't plan it but yes,
I monitored the call.

Knew he might still be here.

The, uh...

outcome, although not ideal,

it is manageable.

- You can tell that
to their families.

They can think about that
the next time they eat

a piece of pie.

- Think this is homemade?

- The fuck is wrong with you?

- How do you get away
with this?

- All the gatekeepers
have been fired, Ezekiel.

Or resigned, trying to salvage

what's left of their souls.

There are no longer
any obstacles

between avarice
and executive order.

The only limitations
are, uh...

The imagination and...

conscience of the, uh...

Man with the task.

So, to work.

Uh, there have been
no 911 calls

about shots fired,
so your, uh, disposal

should go smoothly.

Um, we'll take care
of the vehicles.

Uh, I would suggest using

Galindo's underground freeway

to, uh, get them
to the other side.

Deep hole, please.

I'll need proof.

- What about the blood?

- There will be no blood.

Let me know when you're done.

Store-bought.

Shame.

- This a good time?

- Uh, yes.

- Shit.

How old were you guys?

- 15, maybe.

Yeah, your brother...

yeah, he loved that car.

- The faster the better.

- Sit.

Now as this shift happens--

the show for the feds

of play with the rebels--

my inner circle will need
to get bigger

and more inclusive,

and that can cause...

hierarchy issues.

Make people feel marginalized.

So I'm reorganizing

to avoid confusion.

- Yeah, makes sense.

- Good.

You'll still be my head
of security

Handle all protection details
for me and my family.

But, uh, in the field

I'm going to let
my consejero handle

any conflict that may arise.

You'll be as much of a general
as he is an advisor.

- Mikey, I don't understand.

- Listen...

Your decision to beat
a nun to death

with a baseball bat
and dump her

in a baptismal font...

although effective,
it lacked...

vision.

We'll be playing
a dangerous game of chess

on a three-dimensional board,

and I worry about
your level of skill

moving around
the most volatile pieces.

Look, it'll all make sense.

Hey.

You're like a brother to me,
Nestor.

- Supposed to be back soon.

I picked up Alvarez's bag.

Ordered the meat from Pop.

- We just wasted two feds...

and you're worried about
being late to the party?

This is fucked up,
little brother.

It wasn't supposed
to go down this way.

- If I didn't show up
you'd probably be dead.

- Then that's on me!

I'm the one who fucks up.

- I can't keep
seeing everything

as a mistake, Angel.

All I do is chase the repair.

It's fucked up, I know.

I gotta start believing

that this is my life.

That some of this shit
is supposed to happen.

- It is.

To me.

- Shit.

Oh, shit.

Do you remember him
from when we were kids?

- No.

Not really.

- All I remember was this...

Fourth of July party,
barbecue...

His old man slapped
the shit out of him

because he spilled relish
on our tablecloth.

- Yeah.

Good times.

- You've been busy.

- Yes.

My Cristobal...

Did you know?

- What happened that day
in the study between you,

Miguel, and Devante...

I never knew about it.

Miguel kept that secret.

Until he found out
it was a lie.

Then he told me.

- I would never make Miguel--

- Dita, you made a choice...

from outside the circle.

So now you're feeling it.

That's the way it works, right?

- I'll let you work.

- I'm gonna drop you
at the storm drain.

- Where you going?

- It's where you're going
that matters.

After Templo, you tell Bishop
you're done.

Then you pack your shit;
you leave in the morning.

Be the last fucking grave
you ever dig.

Walk with me.

- It's nice.

Quiet.
- Yeah.

What's wrong, Angel?

- Shit with my brother.

Just...

history.

- We can choose our family,

but not our blood.

- Something like that.

I'm glad you're safe.

It'll be nice having you
in one place for a while.

Not needing a sat phone,

GPS, or a bloodhound
to find you.

I'll check in on you
later this week.

Buenas noches, querida.

- Angel.

Do you want to stay?

Spend the night?

- More than you know.

Not on a night
when I hate myself this much.

- Hm.

- We do love our gadgets.

Reyes.

Zero-zero-zero.

Edward-red-colon.

Sam-Susan-Peter-colon-47.

Execute command 9-2-9.

All doors open, all eyes shut.

- That's it?

- That's it.

Oh, EZ. Um...

The task was to remove
one problem.

Um, removing two,

it did makes things
a bit more complicated.

But no worries.

I've taken care of it.

Let's just say you owe me one.

- Hey.

Your pop just pulled up with
the meat and stuff.

- Hey, Boy Scout.

Look at your sponsor.

Got himself some new flash.

- Our new secretario.

- EZ.

Beers.
- Yeah.

- Put it in the books.

We'll talk about it later.

Thanks.

- Excuse me.

Can I talk to you
for a second?

You all should hear this.

- Sit.

- What happened?

- It's done.

- EZ.

It was all me.

The golden boy
is free and clear.

You can help him pack
his shit in the morning.

- Angel.

- That all of it?

- Yeah.

- You sure about this?
- Yeah.

I'm sure.

- Does your brother know?

- Yeah, we talked.

- Okay.

I get it.

- Thank you.

- Primo.

Sit down.

I need to talk to you.

- My Reaper brothers.
- Running Deer.

- How was your ride?

- Too long and too hot.

- You guys aware you live in
a fucking desert?

- Yeah.

- Great to see you.

- Let's go, Prospect.

- Later, mami.

- You earned that.

- Thanks, Pres.

My brother talk to you?
- Yeah.

Makes sense.

We'll add it to our bylaws.

Blood can't sponsor blood.

- I don't understand.
- Well that's why your brother

asked me to sponsor him.

Said the family shit
was fucking with both of you.

- Yeah.

Yeah, it is.

- Marcus.

Bienvenido.
- Thank you.

- Mrs. Galindo.
- Emily, please.

- Amigo.

- What the fuck
are you doing?

We had a deal.
- No, we didn't.

You had a demand.
- Yeah.

And you're gonna fucking do it.
- No.

I'm not.

Everything I did
on the inside...

it was survival.

All about me.

Getting my life back.

Since I've been out it--
it's been about you.

And Pop, and the club.

I don't know who the fuck
I am anymore, Angel.

Or what I should be doing.

But I know I'm not supposed
to run.

So I'm not going anywhere.

If you want to blow me up...

Rat me out.

Have at it.

But this shit?

This shit I've earned.
- Hey.

Sorry, man.

Do you have any other beer?

All you got is that
"Dos-Quacky" shit.

- Yeah.
What do you need?

- My sponsor just wants, like,

a "Heiny" or a Miller.

- Yeah.

I'll get you some.

Where you at?
- By the van.

- Drop it! Drop it!

- Hey, Mom?

Mom! Mom!

Help!

Help!

- That's the whole
fucking point, Ezekiel.

It's fucked up.

You can't figure it out.

It's not
a fucking math problem.

- Don't make me sorry
I got you out.

Drop it!

I'm a cop...

- Hold it right there!

- Hey!

Hey!

- Get down! !

- You heard him!
On your knees!

Turn around!

Now!