At her nod, Cole darts across. It’s less than twenty feet, but it feels like miles. Miranda swallows back bile as she watches the killers and listens for Cole. She can’t see behind the kiosk, but every rattle and click makes her wince. Still, the killers don’t turn. It feels like forever until her peripheral vision catches Cole peeping around the corner of the cart, but it’s probably under a minute. She nods again to let him know that it’s okay. Just after he darts back across, one of the men glances up the hall, but his body language shows no sign of alarm.

Miranda pulls her phone in and then exhales shakily.

Cole is carrying a controller and a ten-inch-long white Jeep with an open top. Grace tries to put her phone sideways on the seat. It’s tight, but it fits.

Grace takes it back out and connects with Cole on FaceTime. Now his screen shows what her phone can see, with just a small inset square displaying what his phone is viewing. And hers is the same, only in reverse. When Grace fits her phone back in the car, Cole’s phone shows her thumb as well as the front of the Jeep’s hood.

They have created a mobile surveillance camera.

It’s time. Cole sets his phone on top of a display case showing a map of the mall. After tugging on the brim of his ball cap, he picks up the controller.

Infinitesimal

INFINITESIMAL

6:01 P.M.

Miranda uses her phone one more time to check the hall. The gunmen are still facing the hostages. She nods at Grace, who reaches out one hand just long enough to set the toy Jeep on the floor, tight against the wall. Then she and Miranda join Javier and Cole, all of them staring down at the tiny image on the phone.

From out in the hall, the Jeep makes a high-pitched whine as Cole begins to pilot it, zooming past shopping bags and potted plants, benches, and a freestanding display ad for Hickory Farms.

Seeing things from the Jeep’s nearly ground-level point of view makes Miranda feel queasy. Their plan suddenly seems ridiculous. The chances that in a few minutes she will be tying up one of the killers with the scarves stuffed in her pockets are infinitesimal.

To distract herself, she focuses on Cole’s intent face. He reminds Miranda of every guy she’s ever seen play a video game. It’s clear that what he sees on the screen is as real to him as looking down the hall would be.

The Jeep reaches the junction of the corridor and the food court. Cole moves the controller, and the Jeep turns. The gate is ahead of it, with several dozen people penned behind it. Miranda squints and leans closer to the display.

Yes! There’s Amina. But her turquoise headscarf is gone.