When the Hells Angels trial began, I wondered how a collection of bikers who insisted on sporting their notorious club colors around the federal courthouse could actually find a fair and impartial jury.

Few things in this life say "bad ass approaching" like the Hells Angels' trademark winged skull symbol. The last I checked, not even the mafia wore an official jacket. The average baggy pants barrio gang kills more homeboys in a year than the worldwide Hells Angels does in a decade, but the Harley-Davidson riders enjoy legendary status in America's outlaw mythology.

Just days into the trial of 11 men charged in U.S. District Judge James Mahan's courtroom with enough attempted murder and racketeering counts to put them away until Harleys fly, I'm starting to wonder whether the Hells Angels will be convicted of the most serious allegations. It's going to take more than a notorious reputation to make a racketeering charge stick.

With gunslinging lawyers at their side, the defendants' problem won't be in getting a fair trial. Their problem will be explaining their participation in so much violence without being responsible for at least some of it.

After all, we're not talking about the bowling team from Mel's Diner here. We're talking about the Hells Angels.

Assistant U.S. Attorney Eric Johnson is understandably trying to make the most of that outlaw image. The prosecution team is attempting to knock the Hells Angels off the road by nailing the club as a historically criminal enterprise. To back the government's contention that the Hells Angels took the deadly fight to the Mongols on April 27, 2002, at Harrah's Laughlin, Johnson will make much use of the voluminous surveillance video, law enforcement veterans, and former club members who will tell the violent history of the organization. Like most snitch witnesses, their criminal records are at least as bad as the pending criminal allegations.

In all the violence captured on casino surveillance video that night, Hells Angels member Calvin Schaefer might be the shooting star. He's seen swinging a hammer and firing his pistol at the rival Mongols.

Case closed, right?

Case complicated, actually.

Jurors learned from his attorney David Chesnoff that Schaefer, a Mesa, Ariz., sheet metal worker with no prior criminal record, has a concealed weapons permit for that gun. They heard that Schaefer fired in self-defense.

You could almost hear the jury ask, "Self-defense? At 2 a.m. in the middle of a casino?"

But in his opening statement Chesnoff used the words of former Metro Homicide veteran Phil Ramos, who investigated the triple-murder scene that also left a dozen wounded. After exhaustive analysis, Ramos said it appeared Mongols member Kenneth Dysart fired at Schaefer first. Only an apparent weapon malfunction prevented Dysart from shooting Schaefer several times.

By the time Assistant Federal Public Defender Michael Kennedy told jurors that his client, Sohn Regas of Reno, had a concealed weapon permit for his .45- and .40-caliber pistols "and left them locked in his Harley's saddlebag" you could feel the tenor in the courtroom begin to change. Regas did far more ducking than swinging that night.

To a juror, Regas and some of the others might appear substantially overcharged.

You see, that amazing video cuts both ways. Slowed down, many interpretations are possible, and some of those interpretations could lead to reasonable doubt.

But after the legal gunslingers shoot down most of the sticky issues, the defense will have one left to answer:

If the Hells Angels weren't looking for trouble that night in Laughlin, why did they bring so many guns, knives, wrenches and hammers to Harrah's after Metro officers warned both sides? I know Jesus was a carpenter and the Boy Scouts are always prepared, but I'm guessing the defense still has plenty of work to do.

Although the racketeering case seems fractured with reasonable doubt issues, this doesn't mean the Hells Angels will be acquitted of all charges at the end of their latest legal road. But it does mean they're getting the defense of their lives and a level playing field in Judge Mahan's courtroom.

Considering all the death-head imagery and violent video, that alone is a victory for the American justice system.

John L. Smith's column appears Sunday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday. E-mail him at Smith@reviewjournal.com or call 383-0295.