Original subtitles

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

- [speaking Spanish]

- [speaking Spanish]

- [speaking Spanish]

- [speaking Spanish]

- [speaking Spanish]

- 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.

[crows cawing]

[Joshua James's "Mother Mary"]

� �

[engine rumbling]

� �

[crows cawing]

- � I've walked half of this country �

� To get to this town �

� To put a bill in my pocket �

� Shake the dirt from a crown �

� If your worries are trouble �

� Then your trouble, it's broke �

� Your bottle is empty �

� Now there's blood on the floor �

� Your bottle is empty �

� And there's blood on the floor �

� �

� Well, the colors ain't mixin' �

� Your tolerance has run dry �

� So you board up your windows �

� To make it through the night �

� They might hunt you like foxes �

� And sell you as slaves �

� You'll be the one throwin' fire... �

[music fades]

- [speaking Spanish]

- [speaking Spanish]

Miguel.

- � Shoes on my feet �

� He'd burn these here bastards �

- [shaky breathing]

- � He'd put shoes on my feet �

� �

� Mother Mary called �

� �

� She wants her son's blood �

� Washed from the walls �

� Mother Mary called �

� �

� Says she wants �

� Her son's blood �

� Yeah, washed from the walls �

� �

[dramatic music]

� �

- � Mother of exiles �

� The torch of hope �

� In the toss of the tempest �

� Threw us medicine's rope �

� But the brazen giant �

� With limbs astride �

� Blocks the golden door �

� To the US of lies �

� Screaming �

� 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 dead �

� 'Cause a beaten dog �

� �

� Never forgets �

� �

� Never forgets �

� �

- Boy Scout left already.

- Guess so.

- You all right, man?

- Yeah.

[engines rumbling]

[upbeat acoustic guitar]

� �

[engines revving]

� �

[man singing in Spanish]

� �

[crow cawing]

[engine rumbling]

- Pop. - You okay?

Couldn't reach you or your brother.

- Yeah.

We were in Arizona.

Indian casino.

- Okay.

[speaking Spanish]

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.

[melancholy acoustic guitar]

- 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.

[door opens]

[door closes]

- You riding back already?

- After the party.

[gate rumbling]

[engines rumbling]

[engines cut]

- 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.

[phones ringing]

[door opens]

- 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.

[phone vibrating]

- 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.

[laughter]

Gonna show Galindo the merch. - We'll show

those fucking gueros how to party.

[overlapping chatter]

[rock music playing through radio]

� �

� �

[baby crying] - [gasps, squeals]

[laughing] [speaking Spanish]

[tense music]

- [screams]

- [laughing] - Oh!

You think that's funny?

No, wait! Stop it!

[both laughing]

[panting] No.

[both breathing heavily]

- [moaning]

[both breathing heavily]

[sinister music]

[siren wailing]

[peppy music playing over radio]

� �

[door opens]

- 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? [chuckles]

- What's going on, Felipe?

You getting pressed?

- Uh...

just trying to make sense out of all of this.

[mellow acoustic guitar]

[sighs]

- 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.

[laughs] My Pops, too.

� �

My boss was right. [sighs]

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.

- [laughs]

- Is there anything that I can do for you?

- No.

I'm, uh...

� �

You should go.

� �

Head north.

� �

Be with your family.

� �

- Yeah.

� �

[peppy music playing over radio]

- Gracias, eh? - De nada.

� �

- [speaking Spanish]

[both speaking Spanish]

� �

[music stops]

- 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?

[somber acoustic guitar]

- 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.

� �

[phone vibrating]

Tell me where he is.

Jimenez. Please, Pop.

Tell me where I can find him.

� �

[phone vibrating]

- 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.

[line clicks]

[engine rumbling]

- [sighs]

- Shit.

[knocking on door]

- Angel?

Fuck! - Sorry, cuz.

- [stammering] - Let's go.

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

out here? - Shit.

[grunts]

- No, no!

[gunshot]

[glass breaking]

- 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.

[sighs] 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.

[plates clattering]

[smooth Latin music]

� �

[song continues over radio]

� �

- 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.

� �

- [groans]

- [clears throat] 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.

- [heavy sigh]

[both grunting]

- Shit.

Oh, shit.

[both breathing heavily]

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.

[wind chimes tinkling]

- 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.

[somber acoustic guitar]

� �

[indistinct chatter]

[both laughing]

[mellow acoustic guitar]

� �

[both speaking Spanish]

� �

[insects chirping]

� �

- 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.

� �

- [speaking Spanish]

- [speaking Spanish]

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.

[dog barking distantly]

- Hm.

[computer chirps]

- We do love our gadgets.

[rolling "R"] Reyes.

Zero-zero-zero.

Edward-red-colon.

Sam-Susan-Peter-colon-47.

Execute command 9-2-9.

[dramatic music]

[computer chirps]

� �

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.

� �

[door closes] [engine turns over]

� �

[indistinct chatter]

- 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. [laughing]

[men laughing]

- EZ.

Beers. - Yeah.

[chatter]

- 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.

[overlapping chatter]

- What happened?

- It's done.

- EZ.

- [laughs]

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.

[engines rumbling]

[rousing music playing over radio]

� �

[overlapping chatter]

� �

- My Reaper brothers. - Running Deer.

[both laughing]

- How was your ride?

- Too long and too hot.

- You guys aware you live in a fucking desert?

- Yeah. [laughing]

[all laughing, chattering]

- Great to see you.

- Let's go, Prospect.

[Waylon Jenning's "Don't You Think"]

� �

- � I'm for law and order �

� �

� The way that it should be �

� �

� This song's about �

� The night they spent �

� Protecting you �

� From me �

[overlapping chatter]

� Someone called us outlaws �

� �

� In some old magazine �

� �

� New York sent �

� A posse down �

� Like I ain't never seen �

� �

� Don't you think this �

� Outlaw shit �

� �

� Has gotten out of hand �

� �

� What started out �

� To be a joke �

� The law don't understand �

� �

� Was it singing �

� Through my nose �

� That got me busted �

� By the man �

� �

� This ain't it �

� This outlaw shit �

� �

� Has gotten out of hand �

� �

� Out of hand �

� �

� We were wrapped up �

� In the music �

� �

� That's why we never saw �

� �

� Cars pull up �

� The boys get out �

- [speaking Spanish]

� Filled up with law �

� �

� They came pounding through the back door �

� �

� In the middle �

� Of my song �

� �

[song fades]

� �

- Later, mami.

[overlapping chatter]

[chuckles]

- 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.

� �

- [laughing]

� �

[doorbell rings]

� �

- Marcus.

Bienvenido. - Thank you.

� �

- Mrs. Galindo. - Emily, please.

� �

- Amigo.

[heavy rock music playing over radio]

[overlapping chatter]

� �

- 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.

[tense music]

� �

[echoing] - Drop it! Drop it!

[alarm ringing]

� �

- Hey, Mom?

Mom! Mom!

[echoing] Help!

Help!

[sirens wailing]

- That's the whole fucking point, Ezekiel.

It's fucked up. [stammering]

You can't figure it out.

It's not a fucking math problem.

� �

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

� �

[door closes]

[engine turns over]

� �

[engine revving]

[metal crashing]

- [groans]

[sirens wailing]

� �

[grunts]

� �

[groaning, hissing]

[sirens wailing]

- [panting]

� �

[sirens wailing]

- [echoing] Drop it!

[wheezing, gasping]

� �

- [gasping] I'm a cop...

[sirens wailing]

- Hold it right there!

[sirens wailing]

� �

[officers shouting indistinctly]

- Hey!

Hey!

- Get down! !

- You heard him! On your knees!

Turn around!

Now!

� �

[Joshua James's "Mother Mary"]

� Mother Mary called �

� �

� She wants her son's blood �

� Washed from the walls �

� Mother Mary called �

� �

� She wants her son's blood �

� Washed from the walls �

[crow cawing]

[dramatic music]

� �

[baby giggles]

[typewriter clicking, bell dings]