"He would be the only one," she says, and there's something grim and a little weary in her voice. She's searched for her own contacts, called numbers that should have had answers but held only out-of-service messages or the voices of confused strangers.

He veers. She follows, dodging a collision with a college-aged boy, less wary than he should be. Her gaze scans the crowd, looking for anything out of place - and for the approach of carnival staff, or other ADI operatives.