Hi all. I've never written for The Transporter before, so please be kind in your feedback. It is a crossover with Sicario, but I do character development/storyline explaining, so you don't necessarily have had to see the film to know what I'm talking about.

Dedicated to WriterontheBlock97, who asked me why the heck I haven't written for The Transporter yet. I hope you enjoy!

*Note: This story will contain minor scenes of violence and potentially triggering content, just so I don't have to post that on every chapter.

"WHERE IS HE?!" the man roared.

"I don't know," Kate sobbed. "I don't know!"

He struck her again, and she hit the floor hard. She was immediately pulled back up by the other two men and held there while the first man got into her face. His breath smelled like garlic and pickles. Kate felt like she was going to throw up.

"I'll ask you one more time," the man said. "Where is he?"

"I haven't seen him in six months," Kate whispered. "Not since he put the gun under my chin and made me sign his papers."

She felt the grip of the other two men on her arms, which was tight and painful. The first man glared at her before going to pace. Kate wasn't lying. She had not seen Alejandro in six months. As far as she knew, he could be anywhere. She wished she could say the same for herself. Instead, she had stuck around, thinking things would get better.

They didn't.

"Dispose of her," the first man said, waving his hand.

"No," Kate said as the other two started to drag her out. "No!"

She did her best, but she was outnumbered.

…

Frank knew a body when he saw one. He stood beside his car, watching as two men carried a bag out. He'd seen this before, and he was irritated that he was back in this situation again. When would he learn? Maybe it was time to retire and go fishing like his friend, Tarconi, always suggested. He was bitter, though,and working kept him distracted. He'd lost the girl, Valentina. The one he'd found when he was cuffed and told to stay within so many feet of his car if he didn't want to blow up. It was just as well, or so he tried to tell himself. He'd moved back to the States but found himself in Mexico, and now, here he was. All he had done was answer the call, and he had yet another bad situation on his hands.

"No questions asked, right?" the man asked, a smirk on his lips.

"That's right," Frank nodded. It was obvious the man was cartel, but business was business.

He watched as they lifted the bag and put it in his trunk. He shook hands with the man, took his payment, and got into his car. He drove away, and about five miles later, he pulled over. First, he checked the briefcase and then underneath his car to make sure they weren't going to blow him to kingdom come, even though he had been standing by his car the whole time. He wasn't about to fall for that again. Both were clear.

Next, he popped open the trunk and surveyed the bag. Who was he going to find this time? He hoped it wasn't the same girl as last time. He slowly unzipped it, breaking his third rule yet again, and immediately smelled the blood. He cringed. He was transporting a dead body. That was new.

He surveyed the woman before him, her brown hair loose and in her eyes, which were closed. Her wrists were taped behind her back, and she had tape over her mouth. He chewed on his cheek briefly, knowing what he should really be doing: calling it in.

Instead, he reached to touch her face, noticing her features and wondering who she was and why she deserved to die like this and be delivered to someone.

Her eyes flew open.

…

Kate had no idea where she was. She had no idea what was happening let alone who the guy was standing before her and exclaiming in shock. She realized she was still bound and unable to speak. Very soon, she felt the pain.

She remembered getting shot suddenly and vividly. She started to panic. If she was still alive, then that meant she was still bleeding out.

"Easy, easy," the guy was saying now, putting his hands on her shoulder to make her stop moving. "You're wounded."

"No shit, Sherlock," she tried to say, but of course it was muffled through the tape.

"Hang on," he said, reaching for the tape on her mouth. "This'll hurt a bit."

Kate winced and groaned as he pulled the tape off in one clean motion. She was breathing heavily now, grunting in pain.

"I've got you," he said, moving her to a sitting position before pulling her out of his trunk. He sat her on the edge of the trunk and cut the tape on her wrists with his pocket knife. Kate immediately reached for her wound, pressing her hand into it and gasping.

He pulled off his suit jacket and balled it up, moving her hand to press it against her wound to stop the bleeding.

"We should get you to a hospital," he said.

"No," she immediately replied, grabbing his wrist. "No hospitals."

"Oh, right. I forgot. You were stowed away in my car to take to another bad guy, who is presumably supposed to bury you somewhere far away. If you show up at a hospital, they'll find out where you are and properly finish off the job," he commented. She gave him an incredulous look.

"Are you being serious right now?" she asked.

"I was being sarcastic when I said you need a hospital," he replied.

"So what do you suggest then, genius?" she shot at him.

"Get in the back seat and out of sight," he ordered. "You're in luck. I just happen to be something of a medic in my spare time."

Kate was too tired and sore to argue. He opened the door for her, and she crawled into the backseat. He got into the driver's seat and threw the car into drive.

She passed out before too long.

…

Frank drove like a madman to get her to his place. He knew the person he was delivering her to would be looking for him. He knew they would come looking for him, but luckily he was good at hiding in plain sight...most of the time. He had to think fast and plan accordingly, both things he was good at.

He threw the car into park and shut it off. He went around to the back and opened the door, seeing her passed out again. He hauled her out and carried her in his arms to his front door, awkwardly getting his keys and unlocking it. He almost dropped her inside, but he steadied himself. He wasn't used to his new place yet with all its new steps and walls to corner around, but it was getting better. He carried her to his couch and set her down on it. She groaned.

"Hang on," he said. He had no idea how much blood she had already lost. He got his kit, and he got to work. He removed his jacket from her hands and removed her shirt to reveal the wound.

"It's a through and through," he said, examining it. "Left shoulder. If someone was aiming for your heart, they missed by a long shot."

Kate barely heard him. She was busy breathing through the pain.

"What's the damage, then?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"Easy fix. Clean it and sew it up."

"Okay."

She closed her eyes, and he started.

…

Frank sat and watched the woman sleep. She had passed out again during his "surgery." Luckily, she hadn't lost too much blood, and he was able to fix her up. He found no identification on her, so he had no idea who she was. He could only imagine the reaction of the person he was supposed to deliver her to. He was six hours late, and he knew they were going to hunt him down. He wasn't so lucky as to have them assume he had dumped the body and ran, wanting to have no part of it. If only Tarconi could see him now. He looked out his window at the ocean where the sun was setting. He always liked houses with an ocean view. Another habit.

The woman groaned and stirred, and he turned his attention back to her. She'd been out for almost three hours now.

She reached to touch her shoulder, which was bandaged now. Then she looked at him.

"Hi," he said. She didn't respond right away. She sat up slowly, her hair falling forward over her shoulders (it was only shoulder length anyway). She pressed the heel of her right hand into her forehead.

Frank knew she was trying to figure out her next steps. That's what he would be doing, if he was her.

"Where am I?" she asked.

"My house," he answered. She shot him a look.

"I know that," she huffed. "I meant where. Where am I?"

"Mexico."

She inhaled sharply at this.

"Shit," she said. "Shit, shit, shit."

"What?" he asked. How did she not know she was in Mexico? What was going on here? He felt all the red flags go up.

"I need to get out of here," she said, trying to get up. Frank was instantly on his feet, catching her before she toppled over.

"Easy," he said. "I don't think you're going anywhere for a bit."

"You don't understand," she started.

"Then enlighten me."

He sat her back down and sat on the coffee table across from her, hands on his knees, waiting.

...

Kate's head was spinning. She was remembering things, voices. They had said something that hadn't made much sense at all. She remembered the screaming too. It all made sense now, why they wanted to find Alejandro.

They had his daughter.

But how? Kate remembered he said his wife and daughter had been murdered. How, then, was his daughter still alive and being held for ransom? How did she even get down here? She thought hard. She remembered leaving her coworker, Reggie, at the office and heading to look for a clue in their newest missing persons case. Then she remembered waking up to water thrown on her face and getting smacked around. Then she was here. She looked at the man sitting across from her, feeling confused. There were a lot of missing pieces to this.

"Hey," the guy said. "You okay?"

"Of course I'm not okay," she snapped impatiently. He raised a brow at her, and she sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm just...really confused right now."

"You pissed off some major players in the cartel," he offered. "Why?"

"I was working a missing persons case," she said slowly. "And then I woke up here." She looked at him, and he frowned.

"Working a case?" he asked. "You a fed?"

"I'm FBI," she answered. He chuckled.

"Of course you are," he said. He got to his feet, beginning to pace a little.

"Is that a problem?" she asked.

"Not at all," he answered, but she knew he was lying.

"Tell me again how I wound up in the trunk of your car?" she asked. She remembered that at least, waking up to see him standing there looking back at her.

"Let's just say my line of work is transporting things, no questions asked," he replied dryly.

"Dead bodies being one of those things?"

"Not usually. It's why I checked. This sort of thing has happened before."

"Then why do you keep doing this line of work?" Kate asked.

"Pays the bills," he answered, leaning against the shelf a few feet away from her.

"I didn't get your name," she said.

"You never asked."

"I'm asking now."

"It's Frank."

"Frank," she echoed.

"And you are?" he prodded.

"Oh. Kate."

"Nice to meet you, Kate."

"I really have to get out of here," she insisted, trying to stand again. Her head went all dizzy once more, but she stayed upright.

"Your best bet would be to stay put for the time being," Frank said. She looked at him, unsure of what he was meaning.

"Why?"

"Because you can barely stand," he gestured.

He had a point, not that she was willing to admit it. She was also a bit disoriented. She sank back down onto the couch and dropped her head into her hands, trying so hard to remember what had happened in the last 24 hours.

"Why did they kill you? If you don't mind my asking," Frank added. Obviously they failed at killing her, which was intriguing to him. Anyone would know where the heart was, so why did this person miss by a mile?

"I couldn't tell them where to find Alejandro," Kate answered.

"And he is?"

"Hit man for the CIA basically."

"Ah."

"I have no idea what to do now," Kate admitted. "I don't know how I got here, so I don't know if anyone is dirty on my end."

Frank surveyed her carefully. As much as he didn't want to, he knew he was going to end up being involved, just like he did for everything else in his past. He left her momentarily as he went to get her something to eat. He did some thinking as he compiled a plate of random items that he found in his cupboard. When he went back to her, she was holding her hair in a messy pile on the back of her head while her other hand traced the bandage on her shoulder absently. She was thinking too.

"Here," he said, setting the plate down in front of her. "That'll help with the dizziness."

"Thank you," she replied. She looked at him, and he looked back. She had no idea who this guy was, but he was willing to help her, so that was a positive sign. There was also something comforting in hearing his accent, the same as hers.

"I can get you out of Mexico, if that's what you'd like," he offered.

"If you have a way, then I'm all ears," she said.

"Cartel have lots of tunnels," he shrugged. "Shouldn't be hard to find one."

Kate chewed slowly as she pondered this. He had a point. She'd been in one herself not that long ago. Why she had forgotten that was beyond her. What had they given her? She was getting more and more convinced that she had been drugged now.

"Okay," she said after swallowing. "I accept your offer."

"All right," he nodded. "Rest up. We'll figure things out later."

"You don't happen to have any guns here by chance, do you?" she asked casually. He gave her a look, brow raised. She just stared back at him, not being intimidated.

"If you find one, you can have it," he answered. She snorted.

"I'm not interested in you," she clarified. "I want the bastards who did this to me."

Frank trusted his gut on this one, and he knew she was telling the truth. He could always up and leave like he usually did. Or he could befriend her, like he did Inspector Tarconi.

Kate was watching him carefully as he pondered what to do.

"Fine," he said, going to reveal a wall safe and opening it. He reached in to pull out a pistol and ammo and went over to set it on the coffee table in front of her. "Now you're armed. Don't shoot me, please."

"I'm smart enough to know you don't bite the hand that feeds," she replied, picking up the gun to examine it. It was a nice pistol. Frank said nothing as he closed up his safe. He wasn't about to show her his armory downstairs. He wasn't a complete idiot.

"I'll be down the hall if you need me," he gestured.

"You don't happen to have some smokes on you too, do you?" she asked.

"Nope."

"Damn," she muttered. "Okay. Thanks."

"Good night."

"Good night," she said back. He didn't look back as he went down to his room. He locked the door, just in case. After all, he really didn't know who she was, and she could be lying about who she is. However, he wanted to take a chance on her because he felt something there, something that told him she was trustworthy and worth getting into trouble for.

He was about to find out just how much trouble he would be getting into, after all.

I have no idea if this will even get read, but it's worth a try. If you like my crossovers with Jason Statham and Emily Blunt's characters, then feel free to check out my profile...I've done quite a few ;)

Cheers!