Clark turned swiftly in his seat and squinted. Perhaps Chloe couldn't see too well in the dark, but to him it really wasn't a problem. If there was something or someone shadowing them, he'd see it.

They took a sharp right, and seconds later his acute vision picked up on a van making the same turn. Normally, he'd think it was coincidence, but just like Chloe said the vehicle had no lights on. So, she didn't imagine it. Does that mean Chloe saw something she shouldn't? Or that she's infected with something they'd rather not get into anyone else's hands?

"Do you see anything?" Chloe bit her lip. "I know without lights…but I'm sure I saw…"

"I saw a flash of metal too. You're right, someone's back there." Clark reassured her, and then decided on x-raying the van to see just who was following.

The slight problem was that their stalkers had other plans, and chose the same moment to initiate them. The van's headlights suddenly kicked onto full beam, almost blinding Chloe with their abrupt glare. She took her eyes from the rear view and struggled to refocus on the road ahead.

The tiny VW veered across the road, and Clark was forced to avert his attention from the van to try and help. No sooner had he reached for the wheel however, and the car was back in the correct lane.

"They're gaining on us!" Chloe didn't need her mirror to see there pursuer anymore, they were so close she could practically smell their aftershave.

Clark whirled around again, but this time the van hit them with a direct nudge to the rear fender. "Take the next right, Chloe! They won't know the track to old Mrs. Henderson's house is there!" I hope, he thought. Another nudge jolted them in their seats, the impact coursing through the car's frame.

Chloe tugged hard over as soon as Clark offered her the escape option, but the Beetle didn't respond. It felt like the controls were locked in a straight line.

"Chloe turn!"

The reporter scowled and fought the wheel at the same time, but nothing happened. "It's not budging. That bump up the rear must have done something to my car!"

As Clark watched they zoomed past the concealed turn off and seemed to accelerate. He considered grabbing the wheel himself and using his immense strength, but something down Henderson's Lane stopped him. Flood water from a recent storm had converged on the old road and settled in a spot not a hundred yards from the hidden entry. With his abilities he could see the obstacle even through the thicket covered entrance, but if they had raced down it without him noticing things could have been nasty. Not that careering down a road at over 80mph with no steering isn't already nasty.

"Chloe hit the brakes." Clark's hand hovered towards the wheel, "facing these guys is a better option than flying off Loeb Bridge Lex Luthor style!"

"It's alright, I'm in control again." The reporter floored the gas and headed straight for the bridge.

Clark gulped. He didn't like the idea that the little car was damaged and their pursuers weren't backing off. Somehow he had to get an edge so they could escape. He looked around in the darkness for something he could use, and then it came to him.

Just over the bridge by the side of the road was a telephone pole. It was the old wooden kind, that shouldn't take too much felling with a quick, concentrated burst of heat vision. Without giving Chloe chance to query or watch his actions, Clark powered down the window and stuck his head out as if he were getting a better view of their hunters.

"Clark! What are you doing?" Chloe was now losing sensation in her hands, and daren't take her eyes from the pitch black road for a second, "What if they have guns for heavens sake!"

Clark ignored the remark and zeroed in on his own target. The base of the pole loomed closer as they approached the end of the bridge, and he narrowed his eyes for the shot.

It was strange how he had to mentally will his heat vision into action, and normally it hadn't been a problem to conjure up since Jonathan had helped him master it with 'scarecrow' practice. Now though, as Clark attempted to fell the phone pole, he found it wasn't going to be so simple. It was as if something was leeching away his energy without him even knowing it. What the?

The teen tried again, and this time some of his prolonged effort paid off. With a resounding crack the old wood gave way to searing temperature, and the pole crashed down heavily in front of the van. Its tires screeched to a halt as the front fender came into contact with the obstruction.

Feeling abruptly drained, Clark fell back into his seat and struggled to regain his breath. "I think we lost them." He finally panted.

Chloe scowled, but still wouldn't venture to look in the mirror. Her eyes were still readjusting after the last glance she'd risked, and it felt like she'd looked straight into the heart of the sun without protection. "Did you see what happened?" She noticed her friend was looking suddenly pale, "Are you alright?"

Clark nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay, and no, I didn't really see much."

Chloe didn't believe either statement, and she kept down the gas pedal even though they were now in the clear.

The school campus had never been such a pleasant sight to Clark as Chloe pulled to a halt in her usual parking spot. The nausea he'd felt back on the bridge hadn't really passed off, and he was glad to be able to climb out of the little car into the fresh Kansas air. After a moment to steady himself he looked around to see if they had been tailed. So far, there was no sign of the van, but that didn't mean anything. If these were true professionals, who knew how many different surveillance vehicles they had in use?

"Let's hope the e-mail is still on your computer," Clark raised a brow and put an arm protectively around Chloe as they walked up the stairs, "These guys probably have enough pull to erase anything…"

Chloe shuddered, but smiled. "I wasn't falling for that one again after the phone record business with Lionel!" She winked, but wouldn't say more until they were safely in the Torch office, and the door was firmly locked behind them.

As Chloe logged on, Clark leaned over her desk in anticipation of what he was about to see. The sapped sensation in his muscles had abated, but his worry had not. "You saved the e-mail somehow?" He asked as she tapped at several keys and accessed the internet.

"I hopefully did better than that," She hit another set of keys in quick succession and gave him the 'triumphant Chloe' grin. "Remember Mark the kid who got kicked out of school for hacking?" Clark nodded and grimaced as he guessed where things were going. "Well I kinda asked him to trace the mail before it got sucked into the black hole of cyber space by its sender…"

Clark almost rolled his eyes, but controlled the urge. This was far too serious for mirth. "And?" He edged closer, wanting to see the results before they even popped on the screen.

"And," Chloe beamed, "Mark didn't let me down! Look at this…"

An e-mail address that apparently belonged to a Doctor Karl Stern flashed up on the monitor. Chloe typed the name in for a further search and found a list of several Stern's in the local area alone, four of which were doctors of some variety.

"This is all too easy." Something didn't feel right. No one would make it so obvious if they were setting a trap. What was more fascinating was that Clark somehow knew the name Dr. Stern. It was something he'd seen, and was stubbornly stuck in the back of his memory and refused to come out.

Chloe sullenly nodded her agreement. No case was so simple to follow. "So, it's another false lead, or some sort of ruse." She narrowed her search nonetheless; unable to give up the chase even though she knew it was most likely bogus data.

"Clark…"

The reporter's strained voice and eyes that refused to leave the screen coincided with the return of Clark's own memories. Stern wasn't just any doctor. He was some kind of specialist who had worked for Sommerholt's research division.

Clark recalled the name from files he had read during his search for Ryan there, many months ago now, but still fresh in his mind. Chloe had discovered the same from her net search, and a little more about his resent activities.

"He worked for Dr. Garner!" The disgust in Clark's voice was on par with that he felt for Lionel Luthor, maybe more so. "Now this is maybe starting to make sense!"

Chloe wasn't impressed. "Worked for Garner being the operative word," She pointed to the newest information on the professional, "He died in an auto accident two weeks ago. Whoever sent the mail, I doubt it was him."

"But Garner specialized in memories and mind control!" Clark paced the office as he slowly began to sift through the puzzle pieces they now had. "Maybe Garner's work is being carried on, and who better to pick on than the two people about to testify against Lionel?"

"You think we're being set up, or even controlled?" Chloe abruptly became scared. It made sense, but that meant she really had sent herself flowers, didn't it? I know I didn't, I just know I didn't!

"Manipulated is maybe a better word, but we have to find out how they're doing it, and why they haven't just killed us."

"Maybe that comes next." Chloe looked up and bit her lip, "I know you think they did something to me out at the Turner place, but I swear I'm okay, Clark."

The teen didn't have time to answer. A notice blinked on Chloe's pc, and a chiming sound indicated she had new mail. With one click of the mouse Chloe opened up the new message, and was surprised by its apparent sender, and the abrupt wording.

LEAVE SCHOOL, REAR EXIT!!!!

The cursor blinked idly as both teens stared at the uppercase lettering and the sender.

"Chloe, that's your e-mail address…"

Chloe stifled the urge to thump her lofty friend. I can read! "Excuse me, but did you just see me type this and hit the send button?" There was so much snark in her voice, Clark half expected steam to come out of her ears in an attempt to cool her overheated temper.

"Can you get Mark to trace this one too?"

Chloe nodded and began forwarding her request when the monitor blacked out. The screen was shortly followed by every light and electrical item in the office. "I think maybe now might be a good time to listen to that last e-mail…" She pushed back on her chair and stood up ready to run.