Gregor was tall and well built with short fair hair and striking features. Tonight though, as the cold wind whipped across the open areas of the campus, he wore a balaclava along with his coat. Crossing the street, he entered a small tavern and made his way into the back where his friends waited. There was Annika, with the cold blue eyes; Dieter, boyish face with wire-rimmed glasses; and Karol, cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Gregor frowned under his balaclava at the turn-out, but composed himself before pulling it off. He told himself that Christmas was close and many had gone home. The others leaned closer to hear over the hubbub of the tavern as Gregor spoke. Dieter frowned and shook his head at some point, replying, "That's a misinterpretation! Marx wrote that..." The quiet debate continued. Annika remained silent, an arm draped over the back of her chair, and Karol followed the interplay with interest, if not complete understanding. Dieter was again speaking, "We must consider all options. We talk and nothing happens. Look at who promised to come tonight and isn't here. Action will be seen and heard!" Gregor nodded determinedly. "Comrades?" He stuck out a hand. Dieter immediately put out his own atop Gregor's. Karol didn't hesitate either. The three men looked to the woman present, her hand sought as a final consummation. Annika looked at the three, their boyish enthusiasm evident. Inwardly the woman wondered if these three were really up to the task... They would have to do. The female hand joined the others and the pact was formed.