For The Thrill of it. A Michael Stone adventure.

Previously

…They had been moving through the undergrowth for ten minutes when Rita stopped. "Michael." He turned. She was standing very still, looking at something on the ground. A trail marker — painted on a tree, a red triangle on a white background. Fresh paint. Not old. "That's Green Harvest's marking," she said. "I saw it on the shipping documents. It's their route marker. Their trucks use this path." Michael looked at the marker. Then at the direction it pointed — northwest, away from the road, deeper into the canopy. Loc's supply route ran through this forest. Which meant his warehouse wasn't just at the river. It meant there was another one. Closer than they thought.