Chapter 18: A New Dawn
At dawn, Ultrawoman was still on-site at the opera house, her unwavering energy dedicated to aiding the rescue teams and forensic police units. She moved tirelessly among the ruins, helping lift beams, stabilizing fragile structures, and ensuring the safety of various areas. The night before, the opera house had been a majestic century-old building, but now, only charred stone walls remained, blackened by the intensity of the flames. The TV trucks had disappeared, the emergency tents dismantled, and only a few wisps of smoke still rose from the debris.
The night had been long. The once sturdy frame had finally collapsed around two in the morning, sending the roof crashing through the building. By that time, thanks to Ultrawoman's tireless efforts, all evacuations had been completed. Still, the human toll was devastating: 186 people had lost their lives, men and women who had come to enjoy a cultural evening that had turned into a nightmare.
Ultrawoman was exhausted, both physically and emotionally, but she refused to let it break her. The images of charred bodies and the desperate cries of the survivors were etched into her mind. She knew the coming days would be crucial in uncovering those responsible for the tragedy. But for now, there was one last task to complete before leaving this place of sorrow: helping the forensic teams gather the last pieces of evidence that might lead to justice.
She looked over the smoking ruins, a deep sadness washing over her. The memories of the past night, the lost lives, and the broken families weighed heavily on her heart. Yet, at the same time, this tragedy pushed her to keep fighting, to ensure that such horror would never happen again.
Lois and Clark arrived, equally exhausted. They had stayed at the site all night, only leaving after the last ambulance departed. Around 4 AM, they had gone to the Daily Planet to write additional articles, paying tribute to the rescuers and sharing the survivors' stories. Now, it was 6 AM, and after a quick shower and a change of clothes, they were ready to resume their investigation. The shock had turned into fierce determination: it was time to find those responsible.
Ultrawoman was standing beside Inspector Henderson when Lois and Clark arrived. She avoided looking at Clark. She felt miserable, as dull as her once flashy costume, now gray and worn after the long night fighting flames and death. She knew that meeting his gaze would reveal her distress, and in return, she would see the pain and guilt he would feel seeing her like this. She feared she would immediately break down in tears.
Keeping a professional tone, Lois asked, "Ultrawoman, Inspector, what can you tell us about the cause of the fire?"
Inspector Henderson, his usual calm demeanor replaced by barely controlled anger, responded, "The firefighters and Ultrawoman have identified multiple fire sources, with notable similarities to the previous fires. The speed of spread, the obstruction of evacuation... It's a methodical, organized act, likely a terrorist attack. Whoever did this has no humanity and only wants to spread fear. So far, we haven’t found any decisive clues, but I know you two can work miracles. Go ahead and examine the scene, but be careful—we’ve had enough casualties. Ultrawoman can go with you; unfortunately, she knows the place inside and out by now."
Lois and Clark nodded. They began walking, escorted by Ultrawoman, and came across a man in a tuxedo, or rather what was left of it. The opera house director, once immaculate in appearance, was now unrecognizable. His jacket and pants were torn, and his once-pristine shirt was stained with blood and soot.
He spoke spontaneously, his voice filled with sorrow: "They were here to have fun, to enjoy a relaxing evening. They had taken great care with their outfits. For some, it was a dream… and it turned into a nightmare."
A heavy silence followed, each person reflecting on the director’s words. Finally, Lois broke the silence: "Mr. Garnier, do you know why the exits were locked? Safety regulations clearly state that emergency exits must remain open during performances, correct?"
"Yes, and we always keep them open. The safety of the artists and the audience is our top priority. You can ask my head of security; he’s over there."
The director pointed to a man in a black-and-white suit, his shoulders slumped as if carrying the weight of the world. Given the circumstances, the impression was justified—186 people had perished in the building he was supposed to keep safe. The director called out, "Paul, can you explain our fire safety protocols to these reporters?"
The man responded without hesitation, reciting a routine he knew by heart after eight years on the job: "Two hours before opening to the public, we conduct a full inspection of the facilities to ensure all fire extinguishers and hydrants are accessible and functional. After that, the emergency exits are opened. We check all entrances, hallways, and corridors. Nothing should block movement or a possible evacuation. We conduct evacuation drills every six weeks. Our smoke detectors are checked twice a year, and the fire extinguishers and hydrants undergo annual maintenance."
Clark intervened: "Did you encounter any issues during your inspection last night?"
"No, everything was perfectly normal," the head of security replied.
Lois continued: "Do you trust your team?"
"Of course. We’ve worked together for years. It’s essential in this line of work."
"How many people are on your team?" Clark asked.
"There are 33 of us in total, including myself."
"Have you worked with the same 32 people for several years?"
"No, there have been some arrivals and departures, but I trust every one of them completely."
Clark pressed on: "When did the most recent members join your team?"
The head of security paused for a moment before answering: "Now that you mention it, I can vouch for 28 of them. I had four temps last night. Four of my men were out with the flu, so I had to call an agency for temporary staff yesterday morning."
Lois frowned: "Do you work with this agency often?"
"Yes, but I could only interview one of the four temps. He made a great impression: he had excellent references and was used to working with a team of three others. So, I took all four."
Clark asked, "Can you give us their names?"
"Unfortunately, no. All the files were in my office... and that’s now reduced to ashes. But the temp agency should have their records. Ask for Mrs. Collins at SafetyClean."
"Thank you, Mr...." Lois began.
"Finch, Paul Finch. I hope this helps you find out who did this."
At SafetyClean Agency
Lois parked the Jeep a few steps away from the temp agency. She was about to get out but stopped when she noticed her husband lost in thought.
"Clark, are you coming?"
"Yes, yes, I’m coming, but I can’t stop thinking about Lois. I feel guilty for leaving her at home alone. She’s putting on a brave face, but I know she’s still deeply shaken by last night’s fire."
"Clark, believe me, I know her very well. She’ll be fine. We Earth women aren’t just fragile creatures, you know?"
Clark nodded, but his expression remained troubled. He knew Lois was right, but it didn’t lessen his guilt.
"I know you’re right," he said softly. "But this double of you... You’re so identical and so different at the same time... It’s like I have to protect two versions of the person I love most in the world, and I wonder if I’m up to it."
Lois placed a comforting hand on his.
"Clark, you’re doing everything you can, for her, for me, for everyone. This isn’t a burden you have to carry alone. We’re a team, and Ultrawoman knows that too."
Clark sighed, resigned to set aside his worries for now.
"You’re right. Let’s see what Mrs. Collins has to tell us."
They got out of the car and entered the SafetyClean agency. The interior was modern, with sleek lines, glass desks, and state-of-the-art computers. A receptionist, seated behind a counter, greeted them with a professional smile.
"Good morning, how can I help you?"
Lois spoke: "Good morning, we’re here to see Mrs. Collins. It’s about four temps sent to the Metropolis Opera last night. We have some questions regarding their files."
The receptionist quickly typed on her keyboard before looking up.
"I’ll notify Mrs. Collins. Please wait a moment."
She signaled to a colleague, and within two minutes, a woman in her fifties, with graying hair pulled into a tight bun, approached them. She exuded efficiency and authority.
"I’m Mrs. Collins. You’re here about the temps sent to the Opera? I’m already aware of the tragic fire last night. How can I assist you?"
Lois replied, "We need the identities of those four individuals. Mr. Finch unfortunately lost all his files in the fire."
"I expected this question, so I’ve prepared copies of the records. I’ll get you a set."
She returned a few minutes later with four sheets in hand. Each sheet contained a résumé and photo of the temps. Lois and Clark skimmed through their names, but none seemed familiar. Clark asked, "Have they been with your agency long?"
"No, I entered them into my system just two days ago. Mr. Carter came in, claiming that he and his team had been laid off from the company where they worked, which unfortunately closed down. Their résumés were quite impressive, so I hired them on the spot. Mr. Carter was very charming and assured me that their former employer had let them go with regret after ten years of loyal service. That’s all I can tell you. That’s all I’ve got," she dismissed them.
Lois and Clark left the agency, and Lois immediately took out her phone:
"Jimmy, it’s Lois. We have a lead. Can you look up everything you can find on: John Carter, Eddie Buffet, Calvin Hogg, and Preston Porter? We’re on our way and will need their files as soon as we get there."
Daily Planet
No sooner had they stepped out of the elevator than Lois and Clark scanned the room for Jimmy. He wasn’t in sight. Lois hoped he had left the file on the four temps on her desk, but she was disappointed to find nothing.
Perry emerged from his office and walked toward them.
"Lois, Clark, what are you doing here? You’ve been working all night, you should be resting."
"Chief! You’re just in time," Lois interrupted him. "Do you know where Jimmy is? I asked him for four files, we might have a lead on the arsonists."
Perry, intrigued, didn’t press further on the much-needed rest for his star reporters.
"He was here a few minutes ago, he can’t be far. Ah, there he is!"
Jimmy was stepping out of the elevator, empty-handed.
"Jimmy! Where were you? Do you have the files I asked for?"
"I was in the archives, and no, Lois, I didn’t find anything! And I think that’s actually the most interesting part… your four people don’t exist."
"What do you mean, they don’t exist?" Clark asked.
"Those names don’t match anyone in our databases, which is why I went down to the archives. And down there, nothing either..."
"How is that possible? That makes no sense," Lois said, surprised.
"But it does, Lois. It makes perfect sense. They probably gave fake identities… which moves them from potential suspects to prime suspects," Clark explained.
Lois' expression became very interested. She could finally feel the tide turning and saw a real opportunity to put these criminals behind bars.
She handed Jimmy the files she had retrieved from the recruitment agency.
"Do you think you could run a facial recognition search using these photos? At the very least, John Carter’s should be real."
"On it!"
Jimmy walked away, and Perry turned to his star reporters:
"Can you explain?"
"There were four temps on the security team last night, called in last minute because four regular employees suddenly got the flu," Lois explained. "These temps introduced themselves as former colleagues, and only John Carter had gone through an interview. Well, John Carter, under an alias, she added. I’m hoping Jimmy can figure out their real identities."
He came back a few minutes later:
"It’s going to take a while. Go get some rest."
Lois grimaced; her need to solve the mystery was consuming her. Clark tried to convince her, wanting to go home to support Ultrawoman, who was very shaken by the night. Jimmy insisted:
"Promise, I’ll call you as soon as I have an answer."
