Castello Da Vinci's barrel-aging caves were rough semicircles in cross section and huddled deep inside the base of the old volcanic cone. Sprayed concrete and reinforcing mesh coated the rock walls to prevent the odd piece from falling onto the heads of winemakers and distinguished guests.
The floor trickled damp from some deep and ambitious aquifer. The French-oak barrels came from trees near Limousin and reached to the ceiling, eight-high on metal racks that held two barrels each. All bore the General's coat of arms burned into the heads.
Durable paper stapled to each head detailed the varietal, vintage, vineyard, winemaker; and other pedigree. A small alcove hollowed out of the rock walls off the main cave held a long, rough oak table around which sat twelve straight-backed chairs. A strikingly modern light hung over the table where barrel samples were tasted, admired, fawned over, and worshiped by the high priests of wine and the acolytes fortunate enough to be granted an audience with wine made from some of the world's most expensive grapes by one of the world's most exclusive celebrity winemakers under contract to one of the richest and most powerful men in the world.
Dan Gabriel sat in one of the high-backed chairs and sneezed at the cold dankness. He was naked from the waist up, having given the rest of his clothes to Frank Harper, who lay semi-fetally on the table.
"Bless you," said Harper.
"Thanks." Gabriel got up and rubbed his shoulders as he walked around the room again. The thick, solid-oak cave door was the only exit and had a simple but hefty iron bolt that slid from the outside only.
"It's no use," Gabriel mumbled as he made his circuit of the room, looking for a weapon, a path out, a tool, or any sort of inspiration for escape. "I've been around this room a hundred times and there's nothing that can help us."
"Let's pull the bung on one of them and drink it," Harper said.
Gabriel finished his circuit of the room and sat heavily back in the chair next to Harper.
"Might as well," Gabriel said. "At least we'd go out happy"
"That your choice?
"Not much of a choice."
"I suppose," Harper said. "But then, not making a choice is a choice itself, now isn't it?"
"Excuse me?"
"The decision not to make a choice is a decision to put yourself at the mercy of events and other people and allow them to make those choices for you."
"What about now when we don't have a choice?"
We always have a choice," Harper said, "but sometimes we have to search very hard for it."
"Doctor, I've been scouring this damn place for hours now and all I get from you is philosophy." Gabriel's voice was sharp and raw.
"I am sorry I don't have an answer," Harper said softly. "But if you are going to give up, then make it a conscious decision. That way you, and not someone else, will have made the choice, visualized the consequences, and come to terms with yourself. There is dignity in being responsible for one's own choices even if they turn out wrong."
Gabriel listened to the quavering voice and couldn't tell if the old man was talking about the current situation or the past fifty years. Probably both.
"Look, I'm sorry for being so tense," Gabriel said. "But this conversation is not helping us get out of here."
"Is getting out of here your decision?"
"Jeez, Doc!" Gabriel threw up his hands and stood up. "Of course it is, but making a decision is like Braxton deciding he's acting out of his own free will when he's a puppet of the short circuits in his head."
"We've all got short circuits. Which doesn't mean we can't exercise free will."
"Can Braxton?"
Harper was silent for a thoughtful moment. "Not entirely."
"Does that make him insane?"
Again Harper let the silence grow around them. "I suppose we are all a bit insane in our own ways, but the General? No. Not in the legal sense, anyway."
"Oh, boy," Gabriel mumbled as he made another circuit of the room. "Oh, boy; oh, boy: that was a lot of help."
"All I can say is you need to be open for nonobvious choices," Harper said. "Free will depends on choices. I have faith there are always choices if we can but see them."
"Sure, Doc. Sure."