- Previously on "Mayans M.C."...
- I thought Jax wanted you guys out of the gun business.
- Transition's taking longer than we thought.
- Hey, wait, wait. - Oh. Ow.
- W-what the fuck? Who did this?
- They were bikers. Patches said Vatos Malditos.
- A long time ago, I patched the VM.
Started with petty stuff.
Then El Palo became the shot caller.
Took a turn, got dark.
- Your Spanish is colloquial.
- I learned from an angel in Coatzacoalcos.
- Where's that angel now?
- Have the NSA, ICE, and our friends at CISEN
pull everything they have on those two names.
- Nestor. - What's up, Mikey?
- Keep me posted when and where my wife goes.
- 24-7? - Yes.
- If there's anything I can do, please just let me know.
[soft dramatic music]
- Em, there might be something you can help me with.
*
It's a family thing.
[motorcycles rumbling]
[rhythmic Spanish trumpet music]
*
[man singing in Spanish]
*
[soft music]
*
- [sighs]
*
- Jesus.
*
[upbeat Latin music playing]
*
- That thing's gonna make you stupid.
- Yeah.
Might be too late.
*
- When's the vote?
- End of the week.
- It's your life.
Whatever choices you make...
I'm here, son.
- I know, Pop.
*
- You know all these books smell like cow's blood, right?
- You know you're supposed to read them not smell them, right?
- Blow me.
- [chuckles] - Love you, Pop.
- [speaking Spanish] - Bish called.
I'm at the table.
- I'll catch up.
[motorcycle engine turning over, rumbling]
[motorcycle departing]
[cell phone vibrating]
*
- Hello? EZ?
- Yeah.
[upbeat music playing softly over radio]
*
[cell phone chimes]
- Excuse me. Are the bathrooms back there?
- Yes. First door.
*
- Hey. - Hey.
- Is this okay?
- Yeah. I only have a minute.
- Did you find anything?
- When you asked me to do this,
I didn't say anything or question it.
I owed you the favor.
- You found something.
- Two weeks ago, in Dita's room,
a photo of Felipe and José Galindo.
Did you know your father worked for the--
- Yes.
He's Policía Federal...
on Galindo's payroll, lifetime ago.
- Wh-- Is that what this is?
So what, something between Felipe and José?
What, something personal?
I am part of this now, EZ.
Things with Miguel--
If he knew I was here with you...
Please, just tell me the truth.
- [sighs]
The money transfers--
the amounts you're looking up--
they were used to hire a gunman
to kill my parents.
- Marisol? - And Pop, too.
- No. That can't be right.
I loved your mom. - She loved you, Em.
- EZ...
the Galindos couldn't have.
They had nothing to do with what happened.
That's insane.
- Em, you know me.
I wouldn't be here if I wasn't sure.
I've already thought about this way too much.
- About what?
- I think...
Ignacio Cortina did something bad.
Pissed off José Galindo.
That's why Mom and Pop fled.
Started fresh here...
far enough away from Sonora
but close enough to check in with family.
Then when Miguel moved to Santo Padre after Cornell,
that's when he found them--
now Marisol and Felipe Reyes.
- No.
No.
Miguel had nothing to do with this.
He didn't touch the business until after José died.
I know Miguel.
He is...
he is not the person who destroyed your family.
- Destroyed us, Em.
Our future. Our baby.
Then he fucking married you-- - [grunts]
Stop it.
[soft guitar music]
*
- Look...
let's just...
let's just keep this with what we know.
The amounts I gave you--
did you find anything?
- And what if I did...
find something, then what?
José is dead.
Why are you doing this, EZ?
*
- Please tell me.
- You're wrong. - Tell me, Em.
- You're wrong, and I'll prove it.
- Em.
[door closes]
[sighs]
*
[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
*
- Chibs say why they had to push it up?
- No, just that they've run out of time.
We need to take control of the gun trade now,
or we could lose it.
- The meet's set.
Flying Serpent Lodge. 8:00 p.m.
Skint'll do it right.
- No casino?
- That many patches at a table,
I thought we might want a quieter place
off the main strip.
We're still covered by tribal law.
- Moving guns.
Won't that land on Northern Cali?
Why are we doing this?
- Yeah. No disrespect.
I know you got to be there. Kings make the call.
But we got enough shit going on down here.
- SAMCRO asked for our charter at the table.
- This is one of Jax Teller's last requests.
We got to represent.
- I'll reach out to Charming, tell them it's a go.
- I'll make the ride through calls.
- Good.
Problems of abundance.
[[door opens, indistinct chatter]
[rock music playing softly over radio]
*
- What's up? - Heard from Emily.
- What?
- [sighs] She found an old picture.
Galindo's mother had it.
Pop and José Galindo.
Emily knows he worked for the cartel.
- Jesus.
- I had to tell her the truth...
why we needed to find the source of the transfers.
- Fuck. That was a risk, man.
- I know.
- [scoffs] What'd she find?
- [scoffs] She wouldn't tell me.
She couldn't wrap her head around Galindo--
Galindo's family being part of Mom's murder.
- Shit.
- Sorry.
[cell phones chime and vibrate]
- I fucking hate this guy.
[cell phone vibrating]
- [smooching playfully] - [speaking indistinctly]
- [sighs]
- [speaking Spanish]
[door opens]
- Morning.
You okay?
- Yeah.
I just couldn't sleep.
- Yes, you were up and out so early.
- Yes. I went to storage.
I still can't find that article with my dad's quote.
And then I had to get my nails done.
- Well, that's not the best outfit
to go digging around old boxes, sweetheart.
- No, it wasn't.
I have to change.
Where are you today?
[softly] She has the shrink.
- Flores Pequeñas. Couple meetings.
But I can take her. - Thanks.
I-I should be able to pick her up.
I thought this was okay.
- Yeah.
I'm glad they didn't disclose what happened with the bids--
you know, the whole Marlon mess.
- Why would they? It was ruled a suicide.
I wish they mentioned our employment stats,
you know, show how many mouths we actually feed.
- Well, there'll be more coverage.
- I know. Well, that's why I want to find the quote.
It'd be perfect for the groundbreaking.
- Mm.
- I'll make us dinner?
- Yeah. That'll be nice.
[footsteps departing]
- [speaking Spanish]
[newspaper thuds on table]
Stay with her.
[door opens]
[door closes]
[motorcycle engines rumbling, crows cawing]
- Los hermanos Reyes.
[engines shut off, crows cawing]
Fearlessly feasting on rotted flesh.
Pure instincts--
turning decay into sustenance,
life into death--
- What the fuck do you want?
- [chuckles]
Seems our, uh...
our fates are entwined...
and here we are again in need of each other.
- [scoffs] - [scoffs]
We don't need you.
- Of course you do.
[speaking Spanish]
- You don't know shit about us.
And you wouldn't know a familia fuerte
if it crawled up your skinny, psychotic ass.
- [chuckles]
Sadly, there is truth in that.
My relationship with Edward was, at best, tense.
Lone military brat up against a full bird
with a fifth of Cutty.
Ooh-la-la.
- Yeah, man, we've all lived through
the after-school special.
- Why mention our father?
This have something to do with you showing up at the shop?
- That is why we need each other, Ezekiel--
for the sake of our fathers.
- Oh, this'll be good.
- You see,
I want to make the colonel proud.
Solve the big rebellion puzzle.
But to do that, I need to know the truth
about what happened in the desert.
And you two,
you need to make your padre proud,
and to do that, you'll have to save
Ignacio Cortina from being deported.
- You fucking cunt. - Hey, hey, no, no!
Hey! Don't let him get to you!
- Good advice, brother.
- Tell us what the fuck you want,
or I'll pull my gun,
and while the suits take me down,
he'll cut your fucking heart out.
- Whether you're inside his circle or not,
you had proximity to the cartel
and to señor Galindo.
[shouting] So my question is to you, gentlemen,
how far does the ruse go?
How far?
[normal voice] You will tell me everything.
Rebels, Adelita,
Galindo, Palomo, all the pieces--
tangible truth supported by evidence.
If not,
I'll have ICE pick up Felipe Reyes,
an illegal immigrant with a violent past.
He'll be locked away in one of our fabulous detention centers.
And we all know what happens there, don't we?
- [stammers softly]
What if there's no more truth?
You have everything that you want.
- There's always more truth, EZ.
I will give you a few days to, uh,
figure out how to play it.
I'll do what I can to keep all the Reyes men alive.
- [sighs] He's done it again.
He's fucking played us. [breathing heavily]
- No, not yet. Not yet. Hey.
Hey, fuck this guy. [car door closes]
- [sniffs, breathing heavily]
- He's not gonna break up your family
or our family.
You hear me? [engine turning over]
He doesn't win. Not again.
[crows caring, car departing]
Hey!
He doesn't win.
- [inhales deeply] Yeah.
[grunts softly] Come on, we got a long ride.
[sniffs] Gives us time to think.
[dramatic music]
*
[car door closes]
- [speaking Spanish]
- No.
[speaking Spanish]
- [speaking Spanish] - [speaking Spanish]
[engine turning over]
[engines rumbling]
[indistinct chatter in Spanish]
- Everybody's here.
- Hey, brother. - Raza.
[chatter continues]
- Good to see you, brother.
[chatter continues] Good to see you, brother.
- Where you think you going, snitch?
- What? You forget what you did?
- Yeah, well, Ticker was my primo.
- He was also a lying thief.
I wouldn't lead with that part of the family tree, Ganso.
- Let a patch have an opinion, man.
He ain't your brother here. He's a fucking noob.
- Hey.
Fuck that fat little burrito.
- This is perfect, Adam. - Good, good.
The south room should be able to handle your meeting.
Same protocol. My guys are around.
Just let them know if you need anything, all right?
- [speaks Uto-Aztecan] - [speaks Uto-Aztecan]
Bishop, how are you?
- Good to see you, brother. - Good to see you, too.
- Dita.
- Ignacio.
- [sighs] I'm a little too old to be discreet.
Your son's gonna find out that we've been talking.
- Perhaps, but we're almost done.
- Done with what?
What are we doing, Dita?
- [speaking Spanish]
- [sighs]
I'm sorry.
I loved you...
at first.
But it was wrong and dangerous for the both of us.
I tried to end it many times,
but you would not listen.
- Because you fell in love with someone else...
Isabel Varela.
Village girl.
- Yes.
Marisol.
- It's so sad, Felipe.
- I know.
And I'm very sorry that I hurt you.
- [speaking Spanish]
[soft guitar music]
- [speaking Spanish]
*
[door opens]
*
- [sighs] Fuck me.
*
[door closes]
[cell phone clicking]
[line trilling]
- You have reached the voice mailbox of--
[door opens]
- She's not picking up.
- [exhales deeply]
What the fuck are we gonna do, bro?
- We'll know when we know.
- You got to stop praying in the church of Coco, man.
It's freaking me out.
[Rival Sons' "Do Your Worst"]
*
Reaper's here.
- * See that stranger
* Coming over here
* Though you don't recognize him *
* I know your preacher will
*
- So who do we got to fuck to get a drink around here?
- [laughs]
- Bish.
- Hey.
[line trilling]
[cell phone vibrating]
[vibrating stops]
- You have reached the voice mailbox--
[indistinct chatter]
- We never thought
this transition would've taken so long.
Things up in Northern Cali are just only settled down.
And our other interests--
it's finally starting to land in the black.
- We've had a few sea changes ourselves.
- Oh, yeah.
How is El Padrino?
- Settling into the suit.
- Shit we had going--
we haven't made, uh, the handoff an easy task.
- Well, the North Cali Port Authority
has made that decision for all of us.
They're closing down Mendocino port,
which means the Irish will have nowhere to bring their guns.
- [sighs] Shit.
- [scoffs] - How long?
- Two weeks.
There's one more shipment on the way.
That arrives Tuesday.
After that...
we get nada.
- That explains the urgency.
- The Irish are nervous.
They're already looking for new dealers.
I'm sorry we're dropping all this shit in your laps
right now, but it's just the way it is.
- You want to bring them south.
That's why my crew is here.
- Aye.
- Russians run Long Beach.
San Diego's a naval clusterfuck.
- Farther south, brother-- Mexico.
We have contacts in Tijuana--
An MC down there runs the port.
- The Vatos Malditos.
- Cabrones, man.
[indistinct chatter]
- Shit.
- What?
- We just had a little a run-in with the VM.
Didn't end well.
- Well, fuck.
- Look, El Palo is a friend of mine.
He didn't mention it when we talked.
- You talked to them already?
- Yeah, I had to make sure we could make a deal.
They're coming up here.
- Are you fucking kidding me?
- Easy. - Hey, look.
If Palo didn't say anything about a beef,
that means he's willing to sit down.
Okay, nothing's gonna go off the rails with us here.
You got my word.
- Aye. [sighs]
This bad blood...
it ain't historical.
It just happened.
You can sort this kind of shit out.
Come on.
There's a lot of money on the table here, gentlemen.
I'm sure we can put a deal together
where we all come out whole.
[soft guitar music]
*
- You bring them to the table.
They're willing to talk...
we're willing to listen.
- It's a beautiful thing. That's all we wanted.
*
- [clears throat, sighs]
*
- Señorita Palomo.
- Señor Galindo.
- [speaking Spanish]
- Mm-hmm.
[door opens]
- Hey, when you're done filling those up,
why don't you hit ours, too?
- That's not gonna happen.
- [scoffs] The fuck did you say?
- Clear it with my sponsor.
- Well, fuck that, bitch.
Buy us gas and fill our tanks.
- Pick up your money.
- Hey, this don't concern you.
- Yes, it does. Get lost.
- Are you choosing a prospect over a patch?
- Nah, we're choosing a brother just doing his job
over two lames.
- Take it easy.
- I'm feeling a little burnt out from the ride.
Hey, prospect, do me favor.
- Yeah?
- Fuck this bitch up.
[rock music]
- Oh, shit.
- Oh, man. Big mistake, prospect.
[chuckles] All right.
*
- What the fuck? He can't hit a patch.
- Can if I tell him to. [men grunting]
- That's fucked, man. He put fucking hands on us.
- Just obeying orders.
- Bullshit.
- What?
You want to bother the Kings with this petty shit right now?
Go ahead.
- All good, boy scout?
- [breathing heavily]
Yeah.
Thanks. I fucking needed that.
[dramatic music]
*
- Fuck me.
*
- Thank you.
- Sorry I'm a little late. - No problem.
- How was the session?
- So illuminating.
[car door opens, closes]
[engine turning over]
[indistinct chatter]
- Vatos are here.
[door opens]
- Hey. - Hey.
- You didn't tell me you guys got into it with the Mayans.
- "Into it"?
[speaking Spanish]
- [speaking Spanish]
- Tell me, hermano...
are they into it?
- [sighs]
I'll tell you what they're into.
Same as you--
making fucking money.
You rode six hours here to throw shade?
I know they fucked up your crew.
But we'll make that right.
So you either join us
or fuck off back to TJ.
- [scoffs]
- 'Cause I don't have time for this shit.
- You got it...
[speaking Spanish]
[tense music]
[chuckles]
*
- Santo Padre, with respect...
will schedule with the Irish.
VM unloads and stores,
transports to East Cali border.
We think 30% for the Vatos is a fair cut.
- We're good with that.
- And how much will it cost us for the port official?
- We unload twice a month.
Secure storage.
[speaking Spanish]
- [speaking Spanish]
- Ah.
7K U.S. dollars.
- Sounds about right.
- What's Sam Crow's take?
- We were supposed to get a cut for the first two years,
but considering it's taken
almost three years to hand it off--
- We're okay with that--
you getting the 10%.
- That's what Teller wanted.
- That's more than a fair deal, gentlemen.
- Hey. [whispers indistinctly]
- Okay.
- We'll throw half of our 10% to the Vatos.
5% for restitutions.
- And, uh...
What about the Mayans?
What about their restitution?
*
- You lost men because you came into our fucking backyard.
No call, no respect.
What the fuck did you think was gonna happen?
- We didn't know it was still your territory, man.
Thought you were too thick with the cartel to care
if a few patches came and made a little border scratch.
- You were wrong.
- Fuck you, traidor!
Mayans killed nine of my men.
- Because you were fucking wrong!
- Can we just agree that maybe you're both fucking wrong?
*
Come on, brother.
You need to put something on this fucking table.
*
- [whispering indistinctly]
[both whispering indistinctly]
- First year...
we'll match your 5%.
- Fuck that! 20%!
- Fuck you! [guns cocking]
- Fuck, man!
Jesus Christ!
Fuck!
You fucking Mexicans.
You make us Scots look sensible.
How about this?
Let's say the Mayans match our 5% for two years.
*
Come on, gentlemen.
Get your fucking dicks off the table.
This is a fair deal.
*
There we go. See?
Civilized.
And now we're all a little bit richer.
Slange Var.
Cheers to you all.
[knocking on table]
- Any luck at the storage unit?
Did you find your father's quote?
- No.
No, I didn't.
Just some old household bills from ten years ago.
Piqued my curiosity.
- Such a long time ago.
- You told me...
you chose to live outside the circle
for Miguel.
- I did.
- So even when José was under the DOJ deal?
He didn't use you to circumvent their scrutiny?
- What's in the envelope, Emily?
- Questions.
- Questions about old accounts.
I'm afraid the answers you want are all dead and buried.
- I need to go downtown.
I have a few more errands.
[car door opens, closes]
[indistinct chatter]
- Keep in touch. - Yeah, man.
[indistinct chatter]
- All right, my brother. - Great meeting.
- Yeah, man. Went good.
My brother.
- So you sure you don't want to stay?
- Hell, no.
Man was not intended to survive in this fucking heat.
- Yeah, he got to head back north
before he turns into a puddle of Jameson.
[laughter] - There's some truth in that.
- [sighs]
- We did it.
Jacky-boy'd be proud.
- Yeah.
He would.
- Good luck. - Be safe.
- See you after. - Yeah.
[engines turning over]
- She's got to pick up eventually.
[cell phone clicking]
[line trilling]
[phone vibrates, stops]
- Where do you want to go, ma'am?
- Head into town-- the butcher shop.
I want to see if it's still open.
- Reyes Carnecería?
- Yes.
[soft dramatic music]
- You have reached the voice mailbox of Em--
*
- Let's get a drink.
*
- Looks like they're closed.
- I, uh--
I'm sure they'll open for us.
I promised Miguel a good steak for dinner.
[siren wailing in the distance]
[knock at door]
- [softly] Ah, Jesus.
Now this one.
[door bells jingle]
- I know you're closed.
I just wanted to grab a few steaks.
- Of course.
[door creaking]
Pretty sure this isn't about meat.
[door closes, door bells jingle]
- No, it's not.
- I'll get you a couple of steaks here.
[lively Latin music playing softly]
*
- I was in storage today looking at old accounting ledgers.
I found those.
- Tell me what I'm looking at here.
- What happened between you and Dita?
Was it an affair?
Did it piss off José? Is that why you left?
- Tell me what I'm looking at here, Emily.
*
- EZ knows a...
hit man killed Marisol...
and was supposed to kill you, too.
- A hit man?
EZ told you this?
- Yes.
He also knows that the payments came from Mexico.
Money transfers. These checks match the amounts.
They are from the Galindos personal accounts.
Household bills, groceries, local vendors...
Dita signed the checks.
I'm so sorry, Felipe.
But I'm afraid of what this means.
I don't know what happens next.
I--
I didn't know who else to come to.
- Does anybody else know about this?
- No.
What do I do?
- Nothing right now.
- I have to protect my family. - I know.
And I have to protect mine.
Just give me a couple days.
We'll get it together and make sure everyone's safe.
- Thank you.
*
[vehicle approaching]
[door opens, door bells jingle]
[car door closes]
[door bells jingle] What are you doing here?
- I was just about to ask you the same thing.
[door opens, door bells jingle]
- Your steaks.
- Yes. Thank you.
- It seems as if all the women in my life
can't stay away from you, señor Reyes.
- I'm the only butcher in town.
I'm sure you can appreciate a good monopoly, son.
Have a good night.
[door opens, door bells jingle]
- Nestor's keeping a short leash on me.
[door closes, door bells jingle]
- In the car.
[soft somber music]
*
[car doors close]
[engine turning over]
[rock music playing]
*
[engine grinding]
[engine turning over]
*
[bottle shatters]
- Oh, what the fuck was that?
- Did you see that? - Hurry up.
- What the fuck, prospect? - Shit.
- Jesus. What the hell?
[gunfire] - Oh, shit!
- Inside! On me.
We'll hit them from the side.
- God. - Ah, shit!
- Fuck! - Taz, get down!
- Fuck.
[bullets ricocheting]
- [screams]
- Coco!
- Come on. Hurry, hurry!
Get him, get him, get him!
Vámonos!
[indistinct shouting] - Go, go, go, go!
- Fuck!
- Let's go, let's go! - Let's go, let's go.
- Shit. Riz.
[dramatic music]
[tires squealing]
- Fuck! [grunts]
*
- Hey, hey, you good? - He's barely got a pulse.
- Riz. - Riz, come on.
- Riz! Riz!
- Call a fucking ambulance!
- Now! Fuck!
- [groaning] - You all right, man?
You all right?
- [grunts] I can't fucking see.
[dramatic music]
*
[baby giggles]
[typewriter clicking, bell dings]