All language subtitles for Mayans.M.C.S01E08.RatCho.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.264-NTb_track3_eng

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

- Your mom.

- What the hell is wrong...

I'm gonna fucking bury you--

Ohh--

*

- We went after Dennis
and chased him onto Riz's land.

About 50 yards in,
we hit soft earth.

It was an old tunnel.

- Vicki's place.

- Need a hand there,
brother?

- I got intel from EZ.

He told me Galindo was being
detained at Calexico East.

- Galindo hasn't pinged
in over 26 hours.

- See if anyone
scooped him up.

- Your deal is still in play.
For now.

- I'm not here to kill you.

- Cooperation.

- Partners.

- He's home.

- Miguel.

- Good evening, Mrs. Galindo.

*

- You think I sold out
your father.

- Who else could have known
where he was?

- Maybe the one
who took the picture.

Rodrigo.

- Was my father
really an animal?

- We didn't start out
that way.

- Pop.

- * It's too late

* For tears

* Honey, it's too late

* Too late to cry

* Oh, but it's too late

* Oh, for begging me, baby

* Honey, it's too late,
too late *

- I'm gonna take off
a semester...

- * To cry

*

- Help Pop get back
on his feet.

- Felipe will never
let you do that.

- He needs someone.

- He's got Angel.

- I'm here.

He's not a little baby.
We'll figure it out.

*

- All I had to do

was look back
to see the license plate.

You can't keep--
- I should've known.

- * Oh, for loving me, baby

*

- It doesn't mean
they would've caught the guy.

It would've changed nothing.

*

You can't blame yourself.
You--

*

*

*

*

- That tunnel is older
than I am.

My grandfather helped dig it.

We get family in from Mexico.

- Nah, she just uses it
to help her girls.

None of them have papers.

That's what I was doing
tonight.

Ella hadn't seen
her baby in...weeks.

- You should have told us
about it.

- But it's not
a conflict, brother.

I'm not earning
a penny off of it.

- It's an illegal
fucking tunnel.

- If anyone else
fell into that hole...

- We could have got
a lot of people digging.

Literally--into the club,
our shit with Galindo.

You fucked up.

- So...

what happens now?

- Club decision.

*

*

- This must be overwhelming.

How old is he?

- He's ten months.
- He's beautiful.

Mine are all grown.
Enjoy this time.

Kidnapping, jeez.

To have him taken from you,

that must have been awful,
brutal.

- Yes, it was.

- You're under arrest,
Mrs. Galindo.

Failure to report
a child abduction.

- Take the baby.

Cuff her.
- Hey, stop.

Cristobal!

You fucking culera.
- Guilty.

*

- * 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

*

- Sí.

Pedro Espina.

- Ignacio...

*

*

- Sorry.
I tried not to wake you.

- I-I can't fall asleep.

I have to talk to my dad.
He won't pick up.

- I'm sure he'll be back soon.

- You have to take me
to Celia's.

- That's not my business.

- I lied to him.

Celia didn't hurt me.

I did this to myself.

- Jesus.

- I don't know why.
Get even, I guess.

But--but if he does anything
to her, then--

- Of course he's gonna
do something.

What the fuck did you think
was gonna happen?

- Give me your mom's address.
I'll go check on them.

- Thank you.

- Stay here.

- Mm.

No, that was the one.

So much more comfortable,
don't you think?

Inspires honest discourse.

- I requested my lawyer.

- Did you have a lawyer
at the border?

Calexico East?

- I was detained.
It was a mistake.

They let me go.

- Ah, I guess, uh,

unfortunate events like that
are quite frequent lately.

On behalf of my Uncle Sam,
I apologize, sir.

- My lawyer.

- The request
is being processed.

- Well,

until that process yields,
Counsel,

I'm afraid all I can do
is sit here,

enjoying the, uh...comfort.

- You don't mind if I speak,
do you?

I'm a bit of a Chatty Cathy.

Did you have that doll
in Mexico?

You're probably too young.

Oh--not that you played
with dolls.

I didn't mean that,
but it's okay if you did.

I embrace the rainbow.

Hmm.

An Ivy League-educated
cartel boss.

If that's not a sign
of a brave new world,

I don't know what is.

Hmm.

Dual citizenship,
permanent residency in the US,

20-acre estate,
paid for in cash.

Manufacturing interests,
trucking,

commercial real estate.

Very impressive, señor.

No wonder your mayor
and local law enforcement

turned a blind eye.

I have to be honest with you.

We didn't contact your lawyer.

Under Homeland Security laws,
I don't have to.

I can keep you
for as long as I want to.

Your wife too.

*

- Miguel!

- Failure to report
a kidnapping

is a federal crime.

*

- Hey, Boy Scout.
- Hey, man. Letty's--

Oh, man.

She's dead.

- I know.

I fucking killed her.

Relax.

Shit.

Sorry, this--this must
be bringing back

all kinds of crazy memories.

Your mom.

- I guess.

- What the fuck
that's like, man?

Remembering everything?

- You learn to shut it down.

- Guess you gots to.

Can't change yesterday.

Can't plan tomorrow.

I might walk out
of this building,

take a bullet
to the head.

Life is here. This.

No matter what it looks like,
it's all we got, right?

No regrets.

- Especially that.

I didn't murder a whore.

Freed my mother.

Gave her some peace.

Took away the noise.

- That's one way to look at it.

- It's the only way, Ezekiel.

If I see this as a fuckup,

something horrible,

I lose my truth.

I gotta trust
that all this shit

was supposed to happen.

- So we don't ever
make mistakes?

- Of course we do.

Mistakes are more important
than getting it right.

But they're still supposed
to happen.

It all leads into
the next right thing.

- I don't know, man.

You--you thought you were
supposed to finish school?

Get some important job?

A big old house up in Marin?

As fucked up as it was,
shooting that cop--

that was your truth.

It had to happen.

It led you to this.

All that other shit,

it ain't real.

It ain't even a memory.

That's the fucking noise, man.

*

- Angel.

- Yeah.

- I'm with Coco
at his mom's.

- Something like that.

- Tell Coco we need him
back here.

We got a Templo sit-down.

- I'll let him know.

- Fuck you.

- They need you at the table.
- Okay.

How's my kid?

- Had her stay in my trailer.

I went to my dad's.

She's been calling you.
- Yeah, I know.

Can't let her see Celia
like this, you know?

I'm gonna tell her, but--
but not here.

- She's supposed to stay
at the yard, but...

I better stick around.

- Thank you.

Once it gets dark, uh,

I'm gonna take her
to the desert and bury her.

She fucking hated the desert.

*

- KJ.

- Galindo got cut loose
from Calexico.

Potter was afraid
it might be NSA, CIA.

Didn't want to take the chance
of losing him again.

Picked him up last night
at the house.

- Jesus.

- DOJ wants Galindo
on a string.

Help spin the Mexican turmoil
in the right direction.

They'll use
any leverage they got

to force that deal.

- EZ's intel...

- Could be exposed.

- Nearby. He's in good care.

- I want to see my lawyer,
and I want to see my son.

- You don't make demands.

You're lucky
you're not in a cell.

- I am not in a cell
because this is all bullshit.

You didn't charge Miguel, which
means you just want something.

And you think you can
use me as leverage.

- Why isn't she
behind a table?

- Potter likes
the informality.

- Eight years ago,
you had an abortion.

Was EZ Reyes the father?

- It's a simple
yes or no question.

- No, Agent Bowen,
it's not.

It's tactless,

ham-fisted.

And now you've put Ms. Thomas
on the defensive,

undermining...
the whole comfort strategy.

Apologies.

- Let's go, Bowen.

- Yeah.

- I assure you,
that was not some kind

of good cop, bad cop routine.

I genuinely dislike that man.

- Just tell me what the fuck
is happening.

- You're right.

We have no hard evidence.

There is nothing that can
actually convict you

or your husband.

- Oh, that seems a bit
counterintuitive

for the Department of Justice.
- True.

But it could be our
counterintuitive counterparts--

Homeland Security,
Drug Enforcement,

the Mexican government.

- A future.

I don't want to bring
your husband down, señora.

I want to build him up,
empower him.

- Shit.

You just want him
in your pocket.

- No.

We want a partner.

*

- Two rooms down.
Equally comfortable.

- Leave my family out of this.

- It's all about your family.

That's the only reason
I'm here.

Seven years ago, I was
moments away from shutting down

one of the largest arms dealers
on the West Coast.

Culmination of a three-year
RICO investigation.

The real IRA and their
leather-clad salesmen,

Sons of Anarchy
Motorcycle Club.

But before that could happen,
fate intervened.

I was informed by powers
greater than myself

that the Irish guns
must keep flowing.

They were needed to ensure
that the Galindo Cartel

didn't lose their grip
on the Sonora heroin trade.

- My father's deal
with the CIA.

- Yes.

Back when relationships
with narcotrafficantes

were more, uh...
synergetic.

- And you want
that synergy with me?

- When that RICO case
shattered, I...

nearly traded in my wings.

But...

I needed to understand
what happened and why.

I requested
a training sabbatical

with the Foreign Affairs
Division in Mexico City.

I immersed myself
in the culture.

I learned the language.

Got to know key players
in Mexico's

ever-shifting
power structure.

Five years later,

my, uh, somewhat
obsessive nature

secured me
the racist moniker...

It's ironic.

No, it's just sad...

how--how a little bit
of knowledge

can be so powerful
when surrounded by...

ignorance.

- Yeah, I don't give a shit.

Just tell me what you want.

- The thing we all want:

peace of mind,
stability.

Yesterday afternoon,
Los Olvidados pulled off

another coordinated attack
on your heroin facility.

They are
an ever-increasing threat

to your control of both Sonora
and the East Cali border.

Growing stronger every day.

Inspiring
a dangerous resurgence

of Neozapatism.

These terrorists, they, uh--

they live and die
by their own rules.

There is never a compromise
to put on the table.

- Oh, I've seen
those compromises.

The CIA crushed my father.

That deal threatened
everything--

his business,
his friendships.

It put him
in an early grave.

- Ah, but you

can change all that.

Turn blood
into imported wine.

Fuck you.

Charge me or release me.

- So much for comfort
and cordiality.

Oof.

- * And listen
to the falling rain *

* I feel so lonely

* But the thunder
will ease my pain *

*

* As I stand there
and listen *

*

- * And everything is grand

*

* Fair weather blues,
stay away from me *

*

*

- Hey.

*

*

- Shit.

- Be right there.

- Coco!

- Hey.
- Uh, hey.

- Sorry, I was taking a shit.

- Ew.

- Coco wants you back
at the yard.

- I thought he was here.
Why does he want me back there?

- I don't ask questions.

- I didn't get a chance.

How'd you get here?

You two been spending
a lot of time together.

- Again, ew.

- Take her back
to the scrap yard, Chucky.

- Return trip. Gets no lip.

- Oh, great.
Now we're rhyming.

- I'll be right behind you.

Oh.

My bad.

Sí.

- Ah.

- I'm guessing
things aren't going so well

in the other room.

You all seem
a little restless.

- Please stop doing that.

- I'm sorry.

Spectrum stuff.

I'm just, uh--
just trying to understand

how you ended up here,
Ms. Thomas.

- The bitch bringing me tea
set me up.

In the bigger picture,
Mrs. Galindo.

I have no doubt
that what happened

with you and Ezekiel Reyes
was--

was devastating.

But you were young,

resilient, so smart.

Was it just a cosmic "fuck you"
to the silly pale people

being crushed by
their own mundanity?

I understand that.

I really do.

Needing something...
bigger, bolder,

more dangerous.

- Or...
I fell in love.

- Yes. Amor...

The uninvited guest
to destiny's party.

So simple...

yet so...powerful.

- You're...

very entertaining,
Mr. Potter.

And I'm sure, beneath that...
mask of eccentricity,

you're just as scared
as the rest of us.

But...

no matter what loss
you threaten me with

or what gift
you promise to deliver...

I won't turn on my husband.

And if you really did
your research,

you would already know that.

- Just make sure that we are
all on the same team here.

We have to protect the process.

- We picked up Galindo
because of your intel.

- Right after you told me
our deal was still in play,

after you promised me that
my men wouldn't be compromised!

You feed him
to the tigers yet?

- KJ, don't do this.

- So if we don't punish
drug traffickers, Mr. Potter.

what is it we do?

What's the badge for?

We risk our lives,

ruin our marriages,
our health,

for what?
- Let's go.

I'm leaving,

but I got plenty more
intel, so...

maybe you can wait
a few days,

read about it
on WikiLeaks

or maybe in
"The Washington Post."

I'm gonna blow this shit up.

- This is very unsettling

and dangerous.

- He's my problem,
and I'll handle it.

- Your problem
has become my problem,

so now...I handle it.

- Hey, Pop.

- Just heading back.

- Don't.

What's going on?

- Not over the phone.

Get to the house.

- Keeping this from the club...
it erodes trust.

And inside
this current crucible,

that's very dangerous.

- I didn't think I was...
hiding anything.

But...I get it.

- Here's what's on the table.

We let Riz stay a full patch,

all privileges,

but he loses his office.

We vote in a new secretary.

And the club takes 10% of all
that revenue from that tunnel.

That includes Vicki's whores.
- That's...not my money.

- Then we shut it down...

and it's no one's money.

*

- All in favor.

*

*

- To protect you.

Bishop thought you were
the fucking mole,

that your covert family shit
was about the rebels.

- I told them what it was.

- After I fucking saved
your ass!

- You didn't do it
to save my ass.

You did it to save your own.

And heat on me
means heat on you.

- You don't take it
to us first?

- I didn't have time!

I tried to fucking tell you.

I just thought that you--

- You don't think.
You never do.

Your dance with Adelita--
your dick's gonna get us

into a shallow fucking grave.

- Hey!

Hey, Angel!

Coming to me first--

that would've been
the respectful play.

But you had to be a bitch.

Tell Daddy, huh?
- It wasn't just Angel.

It was all of us.

- We all took it to Bishop.

You're all just a bunch
of fucking pussies.

- You know you're gonna have

to kick the shit
out of him, right?

- Yup.

- I'll catch up.

- Yeah, here you go.

- How do we know that guy isn't
some kind of serial killer?

- Apparently,
only a chronic masturbator.

- I didn't need to know that.

- The things I gave you
on Galindo...

they were true
but hardly enough--

- It's not about
building a case.

He'll use it as leverage.

Show Galindo enough
to make him realize

he's been under
a microscope.

Get him scared.

- And this US attorney,

he'd give the cartel
a name.

- He wouldn't have to.

If my deal's gone,
I'll be back inside.

DOJ won't give a shit
about protecting me.

- Neither will the DEA.

You'll be dead before
you're assigned a cell.

- Jesus Christ.

- I never thought I'd say this.

But you need to run, primo.

Get whatever you got and go.

I can get you some IDs,
a decent passport.

- I'm not running.

If they found out it's me,

Angel brought me in.

The M.C. will think
he's a part of it.

They'll kill him too.

- Most of it
is the ramblings

of a beautiful mind.

You should, uh, just look
at the highlighted entries.

- Who gave you
this information?

- Someone we know and love.

Highlights.
If they're corroborated,

could lead to charges.

I just...

need a simple
acknowledgement

of your husband's participation
in the crime

or maybe something similar.

Don't need a lot of detail,

just date and location.

What is this?

- I apologize
for the current state

of family services.

Budget cuts--awful.

This is the bullshit
kidnapping charge

that will get thrown out
in court.

But just filing it allows us
to take away your son.

And with
the backlog of cases...

- You can't fucking do this.

- Yes, I can.

See?

No more mask of eccentricity.

Just raw legal power.

A kidnapping case that
dovetails into a border issue?

Unraveling that
in this reality show?

Your son will be with us until
the clown leaves the party.

- You can't do this--

- First draft.
- All I'll need.

- Home screen.
Hit comfort zone two.

- Gracias.

Here's the deal.

So many pages, I apologize.
Legal ribbons and bows.

The meat of it:

we promise
to keep you instated

as reigning heroin king.

You own Sonora
and the East Cali border.

We'll also supply manpower
and weapons

to crush Los Olvidados

and any, uh, cartel threats
that might pop up.

We'll also get rid of any
EPA snags slowing down your

Santo Padre Agra-Park project.

For us, we, uh...

We reinstate balance

and, uh,
protect our interests.

Occasionally we might
need your product.

Tends to be a valuable currency
in certain markets.

And, uh...
sometimes we'll need

information
on certain associates.

Other "most interesting men
in the world," like yourself.

But nothing to crush you or...

undermine your ascent
to sainthood.

I know.
"Charge me or release me."

- King Solomon.

An ancient move
but an effective one.

The, uh--the folder
she's looking at

is a kidnapping charge.

It won't hold up in court,

but it will be enough
to keep your son in our care.

- You can't just take my kid.
- Wake up, little Mikey!

Wake the fuck up!

You're living in Papi's world.

The other folder
is dirt on you--

random shit,
but with her testimony,

it's enough to put you in jail.

So...

your lovely albino bride
has a choice to make.

Her man or...

her child.

- You can't make her do that.

- You have five minutes
to thumb through it.

If it's not signed
by the time I get back,

you make her decide your fate.

- Oh, so is this part
of your brave new world?

You really think
this changes anything?

- That's the point, Miguel.

We don't like change.

We never have.

*

*

*

*

*

You can see your lawyer now.

- Bike is losing torque...

just like the fucking rider.

Talked to Devante
a few miles back.

That shit with Galindo,
it's getting more complicated.

Gonna need a full table.

- Yeah. We're all here.

- Hey, Taza.

- US Attorneys Office,
DEA, Mexican feds--

full fucking parade, man.

- At that level,

you don't need charges.

- Devante just got done
talking to the wife.

They rattled her.

She told them some
very disturbing shit.

- I don't know.

She was talking to Coco
for a while.

Then El Padrino showed up.

They're all in the Templo now.

It's tense.

[man rapping in Spanish
on radio]

*

*

I'll make sure we do it right.

- Needs to be
on neutral ground.

Maybe the casino.

Private room.

- Not sure.

- I'll find him.

*

- Prospect.

*

Relax, Einstein.

Padrino's Road King,
spitting oil.

Needs a new base gasket.

- Yeah.

- Okay. I'll do it right now.

- Or tomorrow.

I can do it tomorrow.

Put it on the lift.

I can do that now.

Okay.

- He's walking that fine line
between genius

and just fucking weird.

*

- He's fine.

He doesn't know anything.

It's all good...for now.

- Okay.

- Don't worry, Pop.

- I'm here
if you need anything.

- I know.

Good night.

- No.

Angel told him
that Galindo was cut loose.

Feds let him go.

- Our boy got lucky.

- That mean the DEA deal
is still in play?

- If it is, I won't be
his handler.

After today...

I'm done.

- Sorry.
- It's okay.

Guess I'm gonna have
to find another way

to work on my daddy shit.

Take care of yourself, Felipe.

- You too, son.

*

- Come on, Angel!

*

- Get off the fence!

*

- Get up!

- Come on!

- Get up!
- Get up!

- Get up! Get up! Get up!

- All right, that's enough.
End it.

- Way to go, boys.

We good?

- Yeah.

- Yo, I got a cut, homey.

- I'm so sorry, my love.
- There is no sorry.

We're in this together.
Fuck these assholes.

- You talk to Devante
and the lawyers?

- There wasn't much to say.

Everything Potter threw at me

was just "Beautiful Mind"
bullshit.

None of the intel was real.

- 'Cause they have nothing.
- Yeah.

But now they do.

- Look, I won't
let them do to me

what they did to my father.

- They own us, Miguel.

They can touch everything
we have, everyone we know.

- Not everyone.

Look, these ignorant
fucking puppeteers

are gonna find out what
it feels like to be played.

I've got 2,000
forgotten soldiers

just waiting for a devil
to lead them.

- Vámonos.
- Vamos.

- Feliz viaje.

Hmm.

- You look good
in that cage, man,

you know, like a ugly,

skinny, uh, Conor McGregor.

- You're so fucking kind.

Thank you.

- What you think this
Galindo sit

- If we're doing it
on neutral turf,

he has a third party.

He wants to make them
feel safe.

- I don't know.

But whatever it is, I gotta
give Adelita a heads-up.

- You mind giving Celia
a ride?

- Nah, we gotta head out
to the desert anyhow.

- And I know who's
digging the hole.

- I think you should
make it heart-shaped.

- Nah.

You should make it look
like a--like a big dick.

- It'd be a nice change.

You know,
her being inside one

instead of one inside her.

- Damn, bro.

Too soon?

- Go be with your kid.
Don't let her fuck Chucky.

- Hey!

- Sí.

- Aw, man, that's nasty.

- And you know the only thing
oozing out this bitch

is come and wine coolers.

- That doesn't help.

Shit!

- Oh!

- Damn!

- Fucking rat.

[man rapping in Spanish
on radio]

*

Shit.
Who is it?

- Local.

It's Franky.

- You guys got a taillight out.

- Didn't know.

- Something like that.

- The same thing
that's gonna happen to you

if you don't get that
fucking light out of my eyes.

- Hey.

I know these guys.
- Well, I don't.

Step out of the car.

Both of you.

And very committed.

Just walk through it.

- Knees.

- Educate your rookie,
Officer Rogan.

- I got them.
You start on the car.

- Don't need
to do that, Franky.

- Man, it's just
a broken taillight.

Let them up.

- Then you cuff 'em.

- Once we're off the dash cam,
I'll bring him up to speed.

- Holy shit.

*

*

- Dispatch, this is Dugman.

We got a 927 David with
two male Hispanic suspects...

[typewriter clicking,
bell dings]