The Undercover Lawman Who Went Hog Wild

But wait: It gets better. While the book was still in draft form, Queen's agent showed it to a pair of screenwriters, who pitched the idea to Mel Gibson and his company, Icon Productions, whose last big feature was "The Passion of the Christ." Gibson bit, and Warner Bros. Pictures bought the rights and will distribute the film; Antoine Fuqua ("Training Day") is slated to direct.

The role of Billy Queen has not yet been cast (Gibson was initially going to star, though that now appears unlikely, according to Icon) nor have the actors who will play the gang members. But one thing appears certain: The real Mongols want in on the action and have been taking meetings with the filmmakers. They've been bitten by the bug.

The bikers say they will likely be employed as consultants and will probably end up in the movie as extras -- or possibly in more substantial roles. (Fuqua likes the real thing: In "Training Day," about a rogue Los Angeles cop played by Denzel Washington, Fuqua hired actors and extras from the talent agency called Suspect Entertainment, whose ranks are filled with former gangbangers.) "The movie people are going to use Mongols," Queen says. "And the Mongols are as jazzed as they can be."

"We want to use them," says Ned Zeman, a Vanity Fair correspondent who wrote the screenplay with his writing partner Daniel Barnz. "There's no reason not to. Only Mongols look like Mongols." Several of the bikers, fresh out of prison, have been offering their services and have sat down with Fuqua and the Icon producers. Zeman, who has met with some of them, says, "We thought the Mongols would be more reluctant, but they're not." Just the opposite: They're into it.

Ah, Hollywood, where yesterday's Most Wanted by the feds become tomorrow's Most Wanted by E! Some of the bikers are working on their own projects and have been seeking agents to represent them. From three years in the slammer to 15 minutes of fame. The Mongols don't mind being portrayed as violent and mean, Zeman says. "They said just don't make us look like wimps."

No worries. In his book, Queen describes the Mongols and their archrivals the Hells Angels as "sophisticated, calculating, extremely violent -- nothing less than the insidious new face of global organized crime." He also asserts that they have begun to resemble "international terrorist organizations." And clearly, when the ATF announced Queen's undercover work and the bureau's big bust of the Mongols, it wanted the public to feel relief that the fiends were off the streets.

But here's the rub: In both an interview and his book, Queen can't quite support the premise that the Mongols are al Qaeda on two wheels. During his time with them, Queen portrays the San Fernando Valley Chapter of the Mongols as down to its last half-dozen members (nationwide there were about 300), and overall the Mongols seem to spend most of their time drinking, fighting, drugging and riding their motorcycles. They don't really seem like a major threat to society -- unless a citizen goes to one of their bars and propositions one of their "old ladies."

True, they stole motorcycles and had a fondness for firearms -- including the odd machine gun. They dealt weed and speed, but it was nickel-and-dime, and mostly to feed their own appetites, which were hearty. One of the group was convicted on a murder charge, and at one point, members were allegedly planning to gang-rape a couple of strippers (the women, to Queen's great relief, never showed up). So they were bad men. But the government never did bring federal racketeering charges against them. An international cartel? In the San Fernando Valley Chapter, Queen -- whom they knew as Billy St. John -- was the only one who had a credit card (which he used to rent a truck for them).

"Billy Queen tries to make us seem worse than we are," Jarvis says. "Like we're domestic terrorists? Come on."

But there is no denying that Queen walked a dangerous line while undercover.

"What sets them apart is their penchant for violence," says Queen, who survived one knife fight and wicked bar brawls with the Mongols. "It's always there."

Queen, 55, is now a minor celebrity in law enforcement circles, and he regularly does the rubber-chicken convention circuit, regaling prosecutors and cops with his experiences. Although Queen is retired from the ATF, the feds still remain concerned about his safety and Queen himself is wary of retribution from the bikers or their associates -- so much so that he continues to live in an undisclosed location. When he met a reporter to talk about the Mongols and the movie, he picked him up at the Van Nuys airport in his small private plane and flew him to the outskirts of L.A. to have lunch at an airstrip. Queen brought along a briefcase. Inside? His .45. "Never leave home without it," he says.