Disclaimer: The series 'Lost' and all of it's characters belong to JJ Abrams and ABC. The story, Taylor McCarthy, and any other characters not found on 'Lost' belong to me.

It's An Illusion

PROLOGUE: The Job
"Ford? I thought he was dead."

A light breeze blew through the small suburb of Burbank, which sat quietly on the outskirts of Los Angeles. Leaves rustled, and a few drifted onto the streets, signaling the end of summer and the coming of autumn. There were no cars on the street except for a blank Mercedes Benz pulling onto Cedar Street. A dark man in the back seat peered through tinted windows at the small, nearly identical houses that lined the sidewalks of the tiny neighborhood.

"Right here," the man said to his driver in a low, gravely voice. The car slowed to a stop in front of a small house with a brown, sloping roof, and a small apple tree in the front yard. From the curb, the man could see a swing-set perched on the lawn behind the house. That didn't sway him, however.

Pulling out a small cell phone, the man dialed a number, watching the shuttered windows out of the corner of his eye. Raising the phone to his ear, he waited exactly four rings before another man answered on the other end.

"Hello?" said the man who had just picked up the phone.

"I have another job for you," said the man in the car, his voice low and calm. He could hear a woman talking to her child in the background.

"What? Y-You said I was finished. That there would be no more jobs..."

"Either way you have no choice but to take it."

The man in the car heard the other whispering to his wife, telling her to take the kids out back to play on the swings.

"Please..." said the man in the house, once his wife and children were outside. "I've got kids now - A family. I can't--"

"Are you saying you don't want the job?" There was a small pause, an eerie pause that sent a chill down the other man's spine as the click of a gun being cocked echoed through the air.

"No, sir" the man in the house replied in a defeated tone. "No, I-I want the job."

"Good boy." The gun had been put away. "I assume you still have your old equipment?"

"Yes... Down in the basement. My wife doesn't know I still have it."

"Perfect. I need you to find as much information as you can on one: Ford, James."

"Ford? I thought he was dead."

"Well, if he were dead, would I be giving you this job?"

"N-No, sir. I just thought -- Wasn't he in a plane crash a while ago?"

"That's not important. What's important is that you send me all the information you can retrieve on James Ford. I want to know where he is at all times -- What he sees when he wakes up, where he eats breakfast, who his friends are. Everything."

"Yes, sir."

"I'm glad we could come to this agreement."

"Yes, sir." There was another pause. "If I may ask... Why exactly do you need all this information?"

"Why else?"

"... Sir?"

"Revenge is the reason for everything." With that, the man in the car snapped his cell phone shut, nodding at his driver, who sped off immediately.

A/N: This is my first 'Lost' fic that isn't a one-shot, so be nice! Reviews boost my ego, so help me out here. ((wink, wink))