Sons of Anarchy (2008–2014): Season 1, Episode 6 - AK-51 - full transcript

You okay selling these guys
five AKs?

Yeah. Nate— He just hangs out
with these survivalist cats.

Bunch of crazy old guys playing—

I don't know.
Capture the flag, or something.

I want to
thank you for, uh,

peeling a few free so I could,
uh, let this happen, huh?

No problem, Piney.

Those Russians make a hell of a gun.

I'll give 'em that.
Yeah.

Hey!

Looks like you're
about 5,000 light.



I thought we were getting
the family discount.

You are. 1 0,000.

I know damn well these guns go
for a grand on the street.

When was the last time
you were on the street, Junior?

Russ, we had a deal.

Give the man
his goddamn money.

Pay him.

Here you go.
Sorry, man.

Hey, thanks, Piney.
I— I'll be seeing you.

Yeah, Nate.
Hey, you take it easy, brother.

Yeah.

You're too—

You gotta get me
a little wet, baby.

Shit.



Hey, wait a minute.
Where you going?

How is this my fault?

Shit.

Oh, Jesus.
Hey, Half-Sack!

Huh?
Get in here!

Oh, Jesus Christ.

What the hell is this?
Oh, man.

Who do you think
would be flushing panties...

down the shitter?
That's weird.

Yeah? You think?
Yeah.

How'd this morning go?

Jarheads were dicks,
but made Piney happy.

I think it's cool.
Any tails?

Nah. Doubled back three times.
No one followed us.

Uh.

Looks like the rest
of the AKs are here.
Call the Niners.

I'm sure Laroy will be thrilled
his new Russian firepower's
here a day early.

Yup.
Be right back.

A'ight.

We okay?

Oh. Yeah.

Yeah, I'm sorry. I—

I just—

It's a strange morning.

I'm fine.

Okay.

Uh, do you have the number
for the septic guy?

Piney filled
the tanks already?

Yeah. And someone's
been flushing lace panties.

I don't even know
what to say to that.

Here you go.
Thanks.

You look real nice today, Gemma.

Thank you, Eddie.

Whew!
It's good to be ba—

What the hell
is she doing here, huh?

She told me she was
gettin' out in—
Hey, it's not his fault, okay?

I know I'm not supposed to be here.
Just let me—

Let me go talk to someone.
You talk to somebody
in some other charter.

You got that, sweetbutt?

Get her the hell
out of here now.

Let's go.
What were you thinking, man?

What was I supposed to do?
Just throw her out ofthe cab?

Let's go.

Let's go.
Get me out of here.

Who's that girl?

Um—

I don't really- I don't know.
Yeah.

I saw your heart
skip a beat from here.

Who is she?

Just a Tribe hang around.

Clay hit that tart, didn't he?

I wouldn't know
who Clay's hitting—

except for you.

I'm sure he's hitting you,

because you're his wife and all.

Get out.

Hey.

I'm looking for Good Shepherd
Junior High School.

My grandson's in a play
and I can't find-

- It's supposed to be out here
on County 1 8 somewhere.
- You missed it.

It's about six miles back.
Oh, over there?

Don't you move!
Don't move.

Easy, easy.
Hey, open the back!

- Get Frank's son out ofthe van!
- Stay still.

- Hold it right there!
- Saunders!

Get in the car!

Don't move! Don't move.

Come on, this way!

Just watch yourself!
Move! Move!

Let's go!

Come on, we got him!

Jesus.

Who did McKeevy see
up north?

Few gun brokers,

some Irish expats
and fat, black hookers.

- Where is he now?
- He's greasing the palms
of port authority contacts.

All right, we've got
a week, maybe 1 0 days.

Then he wants his 200 "K."

- We're working on it.
- Clay, he made it very clear.

We got to have
the money up front...

for the I.R.A.
to keep 'em flush.

Otherwise, he'll sell to the Russians,

and we lose the Irish pipeline
to our guns.

Laroy's gonna take the
three dozen AKs off our hands.
Yeah.

At a deep discount.
Well, it's either that...

or spend a month
finding a better buyer.

At least this way, he puts
50 grand in our pockets now.

Plus the 1 0 I got this morning
and the Chinese money.

Gets us more than halfway there.

Clay?
You better get out here.

Well, you're either feds
or limo drivers.

Agent Stahl, A.T.F.

I'm looking for the owner
ofTeller-Morrow Automotive.

That's me.
Come on.
Let's go, Clay.

You gonna bother
mentioning a charge?
No charges yet.

I just need to discuss your relationship
with a Nate Meineke.

Who?
Nate Meineke.

He's one ofthe men who held up
a prison transport vehicle this morning.

Killed three people with AK-47s.

We found Mr. Meineke's
cell phone at the scene.

Last call he received
was from your garage.

Preference?

Lady's choice.
Oh! Tattoos and chivalry.

Delicious combination.

I was in the garage
waiting for you.

I just called Nate
to confirm the meet.

I never thought anything like
this would happen.

You had no idea
what they were up to, Pop.

I don't get off
that easy though.

I let friendship interfere
with business.

I know better.
Gotta reach out
to them, Piney.

We need to find these guys
before the feds do.

Nate would not rat on me.

No, but his dipshit kid
sure as hell would.

It's just a matter of time
before the feds...

connect you to Nate
and come after you too.

You know, Opie,
I don't give a shit. How's that?

Yeah, well, I do.
Take him to the cabin.

Oh, so you're calling
the shots now, huh?

Till Clay gets out, V.P. patch means
this shit lands on my back.

Yeah.

The backs of children.

He's just pissed
at himself.

Well, the old dude saved
his ass in Khe Sanh.

But the rest ofthat crew—
Killing cops and innocents?

We'll find them.

Hey, you call Trammel?
Trammel called us,
looking for Clay.

A'ight, good.

No way we're getting those guns
to Laroy with the feds there.

I see you haven't
called your lawyer.

My lawyer's 1 ,200 an hour.

When I got a problem worth
that pay scale, I'll give him a call.

And you don't think
that aiding...

and abetting a murderer
in a triple homicide is a problem?

I don't know nothing
about that crime...

or the guys that did it.

Home grown terrorists-

Über right wing fanatics.

Yeah. Not the brightest figs
in the Newton,

but dangerous enough
to clock a watch.

Just 'cause somebody from
my garage called one of those assholes,

that doesn't make me
an accessory to murder.
No.

But your association with
an organized crime syndicate,

and your rap sheet
for gunrunning...

flags you as the source
oftheir illegal AKs.

Sons ofAnarchy
is a motorcycle club.

And just for your information,

I haven't been charged with a crime,
gun related or otherwise,

I'm a mechanic
and a motorcycle enthusiast.

You are a criminal
and a gunrunner.

And in my book, you are responsible
for the deaths ofthree innocent people.

Now, in a couple of hours,
I will have a warrant...

to search your garage
and your little clubhouse,

and we'll see
how enthusiastic you are then.

Uh, maybe I should call that
lawyer of mine after all, huh?

Well, I'll set that up...
in a couple hours.

Hmm. Look at that.
I just saved you 2,400 bucks.

Jesus.

- Yeah, don't spank her.
- Let's rehearse it.

Can you believe the balls
on that little whore,

showing up at
the goddamn clubhouse?

Clay couldn't have known.
So what?

The rules got broken.

What happens on a run
stays on a run.

It does not show up and slap me
in the goddamn face.

That does not happen to me!

She's so young.
And dumb.

And before she knows it,
she's gonna be old and wise like us.

How am I supposed
to handle this?

I just want to rip
his goddamn heart out.

Estrotol— Solution 1 5.

It's magic. I'll get my guy
to write you a prescription.

I didn't come here
for a diagnosis.

Sure you did.

You're lucky, baby.

My wells went dry at 45.

I'm only 5 1 .

I'm not ready for this.

Stop.

You know, me and Saunders
came up together.

I've known him 1 5 years.

I'm sorry.

Those were your AKs weren't they?

Yeah, I think so.

Goddamn it, Jax.

Feds picked up Clay.

Traced a call from one of
the shooters' cell phones back to T.M.

Jesus.

Need you to find out how
real it is— who else they have.

Can't let them
find these guys.

Your guns kill a friend of mine, and now
you're tasking me to protect the shooters?

It's not about
protecting them.

It's about getting
to them first.

We gotta get Clay clear
ofthis shit.

I was supposed to help you get
your guns to the ghetto,

and run a little interference.

I didn't sign on for burned
bodies, dead sheriffs.

I know.
This is over.

Hey, Trammel.
It's too late for over, man.

You know all about us.

And we know all about you.

Look, only way this relationship works
is two of us together...

or one of us dead.

I'll be waiting for your call.

All right,
let me call you back.

- Any luck with the warrant?
- Sacramento says cell phone's
not enough. No warrant.

Shit!
Maybe I can help.

Agent Kohn.

I guess Chicago doesn't
have a dress code, huh?
What brings you here?

I can't discuss the specifics
of my investigation.
Give me a break, Sparky.

This is Stockton's jurisdiction.

Who's your superior?
Gainsley?

I can share these.
I, uh—

I followed the Sons ofAnarchy
to Indian Hills, Nevada last week.

War broke out
with a rival M.C.

Those are fully automatic
handguns.

That truck was
in their lot today.

- Are those oil drums?
- Yes.

Well, it is illegal to transport
petroleum products...

over state lines now, isn't it?

This is Piney Winston,
S.O.A.'s founding elder.

Did multiple T.O.D.'s in Nam.

Guess what two guys were
in his platoon for every re-up?

Nate Meineke and Frank Cison—

The father ofthat guy they freed
from the prison transport.

Mmm! Mother's little helpers.

Get me my goddamn warrant.

Nothing's coming up under Meineke
other than discount mufflers.

What's going on?

I thought I told you
to go underground.
Nate, uh, reached out.

They're in some
survivalist bunker outside
ofWoodbridge Forest.

Great. You gotta set up a meet.

Well, and then
what happens?

They killed three people in cold blood
and they're a straight line back to this club.

What the hell do you think
happens, Piney?
I don't know.

Just talked to Trammel.

The feds got a warrant
to rip this place up.

Aw, shit.
Cabin, now!

Who the hell do you think
you're talking to?

- Come on, relax.
- Relax. Relax.

Let's get outta here.

We will never be able
to get these guns out of here.

Yeah, well the feds
open them oil barrels,

we all got a new charter-
Stockton State Prison.

Yeah. Go meet with Laroy.
Pick up our money.

Tell him he'll have his guns
before the end of the day.

You gonna Houdini this stuff
out of here, brother?

I'll figure it out.

Mrs. Teller, Estrotol doesn't
make Solution 1 5 anymore.

It's called Menopause Plus now.

Same amount of estrogen, same formula—
Do the same thing for you.

Thanks.

You're welcome.

Skinny-ass bitch.

Oh, my God.

My nose!

What happened?

Here, sweetie.
Is she okay?

Who are you?
Why'd you do that to me?

The older I get,

the more I realize that age
doesn't bring wisdom.

It only brings weary.

I'm not any smarter
than I was 30 years ago.

I've just grown too tired
to juggle the lies and hide the fears.

Self-awareness doesn't
reveal my indiscretions,

exhaustion does.

What are you doing in here?

Um, I was...

Okay, this incubation chamber
is for medical personnel and family only.

It still... hurts me.

Be at SAMCRO in 45 minutes
ifyou want to see his future-

And yours too, maybe.

Well, the Niners
do not want the AKs.
What?

Nobody's gonna touch 'em.
Not after what went down this morning.

Oh, man.

Well, we'll worry
about a buyer later.

Right now, it's all
about the shit.

What the hell
is she doing here?

She's got nothing to do
with this.
Assaulted some girl.

- Hit her in the face with a skateboard.
- What?

What's he doing here?
The feds are grilling him.

What the hell did you do?
Same thing you did.

Nailed some little tart
from Nevada.

Like I don't have enough shit oozing out
of my ears. You gotta go and do this.

You should've thought
ofthat before your dick...

- went on a cheerleader hunt.
- Hey! I didn't tell her to come here.

- But she's here!
- Well, it's not my fault!

- And it's not my pussy.
- Ooh.

All right.

And that's why I'm single.

You hungry?

Take a smoke.

Thanks.

What?

When you were our paperboy,

you had that same goofy haircut.

- Yeah.
- That was a long time ago.

The last time I was in here,
I was 1 8 years old.

What did they get you for?

Disorderly conduct.
I was piss drunk.

Think there might've been
an assault charge involved too.
Oh.

Yeah, well, go figure, huh?

What do the feds
want with Clay?

What do you think
they want him for?

Thanks for the smoke.

- We're heading out.
- Okay.

Federal agents!

Dummy up.

Hands where I can see em!
Come on, let's go!

Face on the pavement.
Spread your legs.

Check the
bottom seals also.
Yeah, these are clean.

Clean in the storage room.

You smell nice.

Yo, Nate called.

He wants to make a deal
on the rest of those AKs.

Russell knows
nobody'll touch 'em.
Ten grand for all 36.

Shit. Those guns are worth
1 0 times that.

A'ight, set it up.

- Me and Ope will make the run.
- No, you can't go without me.

They won't trust you.

You're okay tying up
this loose end?

You know, you don't
have to ask me that.

A'ight.

This is the one.

Step back, boys.

Aw, Jesus!

Get the guns.
Get the guns.

Found six ofthese
in his garage.

I'm guessing this
is how they're getting
their guns into the country.

Dungloe, Ireland?
Mm-hmm.

True I.R.A. territory.

Outlaw Irish.

This could be huge,
Deputy.

If the Sons ofAnarchy
are running guns...

through a known
terrorist organization,

well, then that puts
your little motorcycle club...

on at least a half a dozen
federal watch lists.

My nipples are unbelievably hard
right now.

I'm gonna pull in
Homeland Security, Treasury.

We might just shut this Harley mafia
down for good.

I'll be in touch.
Did you brief
Agent Kohn on this?

Oh, you know,
I called Chicago,

and, uh, Kohn's supervisor seems
to think he's on vacation in Oregon.

Let me know if he stirs
anything up with SAMCRO.

And keep this inside your khakis.

Oh. Clay Morrow is free to go.

Hale says you don't
want bail posted.

That's right.

Just need a little me time.

Well, uh, I'll stay
at the clubhouse.

I don't want you in here.

I don't give a shit
what you want.

Right.

I can't take back what happened.

It should never
have gone down like this.

I'm sorry.

Won't happen again.

I promise.

What are you doing?

You're staying. So am I.

I'm going through
menopause, Clay.

You know what that means?

Means things are changing.

Yeah.

You know what doesn't change?

The love I got for you.

Go home.

Just pick me up
in the morning.

I'm really sorry, Kip.

I'm really sorry
if I got people in trouble.

Can't let a club president
have a time with you,

and then you show up
a week later. You know?

Especially with
his old lady on the lot.

I know.

But I'm not here for Clay.

Do you have any thoughts about
pressing charges against Gemma?

Never.
I'm not going to.

Anybody asks,
you don't know anything...

about what went down
in Indian Hills.
Nothing.

I know the way it works.

Good.

Why the hell did you
get in that cargo truck?

You know why.

No. No. Jesus. That—

That can't work. You understand?
No, look. Look.

Okay, look.
That can't work, okay?

Not after what went down.

Just give me one more dance.

We can take it from there.
I don't think
that's a good idea.

No?
No. Because you—
You know—

Welcome home.

Welcome back, bro.

- Welcome home.
- Look who's here.

Well, feds trashed
the clubhouse,

but the search
turned up nothin'.

- We got the guns out.
- Oh, wait a minute.

Jackie Boy
got all the guns out.

Good.

A.T.F.'s got shit.

It's all smoke.

Yeah, they were
onto the oil barrels.

Yeah, well, we'll just
have to find a smarter way...

to get the guns in is all.

By the time
the warehouse is rebuilt,

we'll be a distant
memory for the A.T. and F.

Mom home?

She wouldn't let me
post bail.

Shit.

- She is pissed!
- Yeah.

- That she is.
- Well, we're handling
Meineke and his crew.

Piney set up a meet for tomorrow.
We're gonna clean this up.

You know what?
I'm tired.

And my head hurts.

And you'll handle it.

I'm just gonna...

crash here tonight.

Talk in the daylight.

In the daylight.

We weren't followed.

It smells like shit.

Long story.

They're all here.
Three dozen.

Cut open a bag.
You can check for
yourself, ifyou like.

Thanks.
Yeah.

Sorry about
how this went down.

I wanted to tell you,
but Russ thought it best not to.

Well, that Russ-
He always was a big thinker.

He's a good kid.
Just a little excitable.

Believes in the cause.

And this is
your retirement plan?

Hiding out in some bunker?

You got anybody
up there with you?

Family, women, kids?

Nah. Frank and Russ's boys—

They're gonna lie low
till the heat dies down.

Got some people waiting
for us in Mexico.
Mexico?

You're gonna be running
this revolution from Acapulco, huh?

Yeah.

Hey.

Come on.

You, uh,

take care ofyourself, friend.

Well, there, uh,

ain't no innocents
with them.

All this shit
landed on your back.

Handled it
pretty damn good, kid.

Thanks, old man.

I heard Clay got cleared
of everything.
Yeah.

Thanks for the heads-up.

There's a little gratitude bump
in the envelope.

Okay.

The guys that killed your friend—
It's been taken care of.

Shit like that
won't happen again.

- We together here?
- Yeah.

One big happy family.

Hey, you okay?
Yeah. Why?

I was going past
the clubhouse yesterday.
I saw all these cops.

Aw. That was a bunch of bullshit.

Got this A.T.F. agent harassing us.

Following me.
Showed up here.

The guy's nuts.
Looking for dirt that doesn't exist.

I'm, uh- I'm just
finishing up my rounds.

Do you mind giving me
a ride home?
Sure.

What's going on?

Shitty day.
My nerves are kind of shot.

Well, I'll be with the kid.

Thanks.

Here you go.

Been waiting long?

All my life, baby.

Oh, Jesus.

Stupid bitch.

I'm sorry.
No, no. I got it.

Uh—

No skateboards.
Promise.

I just wanted to say I'm sorry
if I caused any problems.

Why the hell are you here?

You and him— I want that.

The prospect?
Yeah.

He's the right one.

What ifthat doesn't hook up?

The others want a taste?
Then I'm gone.

I'm not here for anyone else.

You so much as flash
a pretty grin at him—

I will jam my fist so far up your bony ass,
your cup size will double.

Is that how your rack
got to be that size?

Not a good time to be clever.
Yes, ma'am.

I promise-
I'm clear ofyour man.

Not even a smile.

You'll heal okay.
Yeah?

And you?

I'll be fine.

Work everything out?

Relax. A threesome
ain't gonna happen.

Did I say anything
about a threesome?
You are so transparent.

Take me home.

Yes, ma'am.