- STAFF PICKS
- GIFTS + GIFT CARDS
- SELL BOOKS
- FIND A STORE
This item may be
Check for Availability
This title in other editions
No Angel: My Harrowing Undercover Journey to the Inner Circle of the Hells Angelsby Jay Dobyns
Synopses & Reviews
Here, from Jay Dobyns, the first federal agent to infiltrate the inner circle of the outlaw Hells Angels Motorcycle Club, is the inside story of the twenty-one-month operation that almost cost him his family, his sanity, and his life.
Getting shot in the chest as a rookie agent, bartering for machine guns, throttling down the highway at 100 mph, and responding to a full-scale, bloody riot between the Hells Angels and their rivals, the Mongols–these are just a few of the high-adrenaline experiences Dobyns recounts in this action-packed, hard-to-imagine-but-true story.
Dobyns leaves no stone of his harrowing journey unturned. At runs and clubhouses, between rides and riots, Dobyns befriends bad-ass bikers, meth-fueled “old ladies,” gun fetishists, psycho-killer ex-cons, and even some of the “Filthy Few”–the elite of the Hells Angels who’ve committed extreme violence on behalf of their club. Eventually, at parties staged behind heavily armed security, he meets legendary club members such as Chuck Zito, Johnny Angel, and the godfather of all bikers, Ralph “Sonny” Barger. To blend in with them, he gets full-arm ink; to win their respect, he vows to prove himself a stone-cold killer.
Hardest of all is leading a double life, which has him torn between his devotion to his wife and children, and his pledge to become the first federal agent ever to be “fully patched” into the Angels’ near-impregnable ranks. His act is so convincing that he comes within a hairsbreadth of losing himself. Eventually, he realizes that just as he’s been infiltrating the Hells Angels, they’ve been infiltrating him. And just as they’re not all bad, he’s not all good.
Reminiscent of Donnie Brasco’s uncovering of the true Mafia, this is an eye-opening portrait of the world of bikers–the most in-depth since Hunter Thompson’s seminal work–one that fully describes the seductive lure criminal camaraderie has for men who would otherwise be powerless outsiders. Here is all the nihilism, hate, and intimidation, but also the freedom–and, yes, brotherhood–of the only truly American form of organized crime.
The first federal agent to infiltrate the inner circle of the Hells Angels, Dobyns finally tells the inside story of the 21-month operation that almost cost him his family, his sanity, and his life.
About the Author
JAY DOBYNS is a highly decorated agent who’s worked for the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms (ATF) for more than twenty years. For his work on Operation Black Biscuit, he was awarded the ATF Distinguished Service Medal and also a prestigious Top Cops award from the National Association of Police Officers. Find him online at JayDobyns.com.
NILS JOHNSON-SHELTON, unlike Jay Dobyns, has never been a cop and can’t even ride a motorcycle. This is his first book.
Table of Contents
Birdcalls — My sucking chest wound — "You're looking at the loves of my life is what you're looking at." — Hoedown at Harrah's — Black Biscuit BBQ — Rudy wanted to know where I did my time — Too broke for Sturgis, where Timmy learned the fine art of fetching sauerkraut — Jesus hates a pussy — First night in Mesa — I wanna what? — Why'd Jack give me that rock? — Teaching teacher — Feeding Smitty his cake — "Fuck your guns!" — Good-bye, Carlos — We want you — Gimme a B! gimme an I! gimme an R! gimme a D! — Five years in the desert — Arresting Rudy Kramer — Hello, JJ — Pep talk — "Motherfucker, if I ever see you in this town again I will fucking bury you in the desert where no one will ever fucking find you." — Inhale--exhale--inhale--exhale-- — Jingle bells, Batman smells, etc. — The solo temporaries — Will you be mine? — "9-1-1! 9-1-1! Get out of the house!" — The iron skillet — "Look, lady, it's not like I don't give a fuck what you're saying, but I don't give a fuck what you're saying." — Hoover's hit — No more solos — Big Lou and Gayland Hammack run some game — "Get me that brown mustard, not that yellow shit." — Hydroxycut highway — Bottom rockers are us — Call to arms — ... — Hate and money — The bust.
What Our Readers Are Saying