His heart pounded like a war drum. Torn between staying silent to avoid detection and relaying their location, he chose courage. “This is Nolan,” he whispered hoarsely. “There are poachers… coordinates roughly… near the big ice ridge.” He spat out directions as best he could.
Barely had he finished when two poachers grabbed him. One snatched the radio from his hand, flinging it away. The other clutched the terrified cub, muffling its cries. Nolan kicked and twisted, but their grip was iron-strong. His mind spun with dread.