I didn’t want to go into the maze. The last time I’d entered Patriot Protection’s simulated house a simulated homeowner shot me with simulated ammunition that really, really hurt. By that point, I knew the training ground’s layout well enough. I also knew the chances of adding to my collection of painful welts and bloody dings during the room clearance drill was extremely high. The pretend bad guy was an experienced role player, skilled marksman and high-level tactician. He knew what I was likely to do better than I did. Even in the dark. Especially in the dark. Yes, there is that . . .