In a dark apartment, a man sits at a desk, smoking a cigarette and speaking on the phone. The only light is a desk lamp, accompanied by an ashtray, a newspaper, and two passports, a Soviet one and a fake one. A shoulder holster with a gun completes ensemble.

"I saw her majesty today, she went to a meeting today at a hotel. The Lafayette. She met with some foreign agents. I believe she knows now about her brother," says the seated man. His conversation partner on the other end replies. "Don't worry, the operation will go along as planned. She'll now become desperate to reunite with her brother. I'll make sure she does. And then they'll both be destroyed, and the Autocrats along with them." Another pause for the other end of the line. "I'm quite sure I'm able to do it. They don't suspect at all. With any luck, we'll kill the Crosses in the process, finish what we started." His partner counters. "I won't kill him right out, I'll try to get them all at once. Hopefully, our own forces we receive them in the Motherland, there they can truly receive their punishments." Another pause. "Yes, I'll be with her detail. We're going by train to Istanbul than to Ankara. Not one of them suspects a thing." The soviet saboteur looks down at the newspaper, whose headline exclaims:

"GRAND DUCHEES TO MEET WITH ATATURK"

"Symbolic Peace to be Made between Russians and Turks"

Include with the headline was a picture of Anya, with Dimitri, boarding the Orient Express for Istanbul.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure she'll arrive to her end."

"Well, the publicity has seem to have done the trick," Oliver says as he lays the paper down his small desk. Reclining in his cabin on board the Orient Express, Oliver felt the mission was off to a great start. "Turkey is already preparing for your arrival your grace." He looks through the partition door to the two occupants of the cabin next door. Anya just sits staring out the window, petting Pooka on her lap. Dmitri too looks out the window. The couple have been quiet the whole trip so far, other than a few greetings here and there. "Have you two been through the alps before?" Oliver inquires, his umpteenth attempt to break the ice.

"Once, when we went to Venice," replies Anya, still looking out the window.

"Did you enjoy it?" Oliver asks, seeing that this is farthest he's gotten so far in having a conversation with the Russians.

"We did," Dimitri says, still looking out the window. Oliver sighs, realizing he is again unsuccessful. Pooka whines, upset on how Anya and Dimitri aren't their usual selves.

"Is your dog ok?" asks Oliver, genuinely looking out for the dog, "is he alright?"

"She's a she, and yes, she's alright, right Pooka?" Anya asks. Pooka replies with a noise that served as the dog equivalent of 'maybe, not really'. Oliver motions the dog over.

"Come here Pooka, that's a good girl," says Oliver, as Pooka comes over and is eagerly picked up by the more cheerful person in the room. "She's a lovely mutt, aren't you?" Oliver playfully asks. Pooka barks happily in agreement. Anya stares across the room, not particularly happy that her dog left her. Dimitri though, for possibly the first time the whole trip, smiled.

"Well, looks like Pooka made a new friend that isn't Vlad for once," Dimitri chuckles. Anya glares as him.

"Vlad?" Oliver asks. Pooka yips at her portly friend's name.

"You haven't met him? He's an old friend of ours, helped me get her grace out of Russia." Oliver takes a moment to process.

"Oh! Count Popov! Ah, ok. Vladimir Popov. The Empress mentioned him. We haven't formally met yet. Sounds like quite a character."

"You bet. He melts every time Pooka is near him."

"I can't blame him, she's so adorable." At least the guys were loosening up. Anya still stays silent.

"You know, there's one thing that I've been wondering about. The other night, the Embassy ball, you called me a kitchen boy. I know you're a secret agent and all, but how did you know?"

Oliver puts Pooka down is his lap. "Oh yeah, sorry if I caught you off guard that night-"

"That's putting it lightly," Anya interjects. Oliver grimaces.

"Again sorry, I meant no offense when I said that."

"You shouldn't have said it then-"

"Anyway," Dimitri says trying to steer the conversation back to the original question, "how did you know?"

"The Dowager told me. When we received the letters, we went to her to confirm not only Alexei, but also yourself your highness. We wanted to make sure we weren't being fooled. Your grandmother told us everything, from the revolution to your reunion. I'm glad you two found each other again." Anya softens a touch at Oliver's last comment.

"Thank you Mr. Cross, I appreciate that."

"You're welcome ma'am, and you may call me Oliver if you wish." Pooka again barks in approval. "You know," Oliver says to Pooka, "you make me miss my dogs back home looking at you."

"You have dogs, Mr. Cross?" asks Anya, not feeling that her and Oliver were informal enough yet to be on a first name basis.

"Several. A German Shepard, two golden retrievers, and a husky. They're back at our California estate."

"California?/Estate?" Anya and Dimitri ask simultaneously, respectively.

"So the rich playboy act at the ball wasn't an act?" asks Dimitri.

"I hammed it up a little, but yeah my family is genuinely rich. We're modest millionaires, however."

"Isn't that an oxymoron?" asks Anya. Oliver smirks at how it does sound like one.

"From a certain point of view, yes, but just because we're rich doesn't mean we have to act like it. We still behave humanly and treat everyone else humanly. It's our family code of honor. We have a saying too: 'Live honesty, act modestly, think rightesously.' And because of that," Oliver chuckles, "we're very much disliked among our peers." Dimitri and Anya chuckle along. It was nice to meet someone who was down to earth despite being well endowed. A nice contrast to the high society snobs they met at the ball and who harassed them on the honeymoon.

"Where's the money come from?" asks Dimitri. Anya swats his elbow. "Ow! What?"

"That's none of our business," says Anya.

"True, its 'impropah' after all to ask about one's money," Oliver says, putting on airs, "who cares though. We're stockbrokers and accountants by trade, but we have investments in and manage other businesses. Hotels, newspapers, railroads, shipping, and movies among other things."

"Movies?" Anya perks up and leans forward. It seems Oliver finally broke the ice.

"Oh yeah, we own a movie studio."

"Which one?"

"Alliance Studios."

"I don't think we visited that one. We did go to Universal and MGM when were in Hollywood," Anya looks to Dimitri for confirmation. He just shrugs.

"You know better than me," he replies.

"You two visited Hollywood? Did you enjoy it?"

"Oh yes! I loved it! It was an amazing place. We went to the Chinese theater, and the Egyptian one. We saw The Jazz Singer there. That was amazing! A talking motion picture! That's the future right there! We saw it 5 times, it's just so- ah- I can't describe it." Anya continues to gush, much to Oliver and Dimitri's amusement. Anya turns red and sheepish. "Sorry, I just really enjoy film." Oliver chuckles.

"It's fine ma'am, I feel the same way. Sound is the future; our studio is being converted to sound as we speak. We should have our first 'talkie' before the year is out. I appreciate your excitement; had no idea you're a movie fan."

"It's more of an interest of film as a whole. Ever since I was young back in the palace, I drove the family crazy with all the photos I took. Maria threatened to smash the camera because I was using it so much. Papa intervened before that happened; he really supported my hobby and-" Anya stops mid-sentence. "I- I forgot about that until now…" her mind wanders.

"Anastasia! Hold still. I can't take your photo if can't sit still," laughs Nicholas.

"But I want to take a picture of you with me! Maria says she'll agree to be in one if I can do that."

"Did she now?" Nicholas pause for a moment, then beckons a servant over. "Go fetch a mirror. The biggest one you can find." The servant bows and leaves. "Now you'll be able to your photo, my princess."

"Oh Papa, thank you!" Anastasia jumps into the Czar's arms.

"Easy there dear, I almost dropped the camera!" Nicholas laughs. The servant returns with the mirror.

"Where do you want it, your highness?"

"Just hold it for a moment as I let Anastasia take a photo of us." Anastasia grabs the camera excitedly. "Let me know when you're ready dear."

"Ok, 3, 2, 1, smile!" Anastasia presses the clicker on the Kodak brownie.

"Wonderful dear! How about another? We'll each make out best funny face, sound good?"

"Yes! Wait till Grandmamma sees it!" They take another photo…

Anya's mind comes back to the train; tears in her eyes with a single tear rolling down her cheek.

"Sorry, I just remember how my father and I loved taking photos." Dimitri offers Anya a hankerchief to dab her eyes.

"Allow me to apologize, I didn't mean to make you cry," Oliver says.

"It's fine, they're happy tears. As you can see though, cameras and film hold a special place in my heart. I even tried my hand at developing film. I'll have to ask Grandmamma to make a dark room."

"I doubt she'll say no, considering you haven't let you camera left your side since you got it," replies Dimitri, "she'll see how hopeless you are and facilitate your addiction." Anya cocks a brow at that last comment.

"Oh, afraid I've been neglecting you my prince. It's understandable; I can see your handsome face whenever I want. I take photos of things so I can always remember them."

"Nice save," Dimitri replies, "but I do think you like your camera more than me sometimes."

"Don't worry, I couldn't possibly think of replacing you. Where else can I get a shoulder to steady my camera on?" Dimitri playfully pushes Anya at this.

"Oh get out of here…"

"If you don't mind me asking," Oliver interrupts, "what camera do you have. I know more about movie cameras, but I take my Kodak out once in awhile."

"Oh boy, you're gonna regret asking that," Dimitri rolls his eyes as Anya gets up to get her camera from her trunk.

"I picked it up before we took a ship to America. I wanted to take a photo of the Statue of Liberty. I put it- ah! Here it is!" Anya pulls out a small red leather case. "My Kodak Vest Pocket-"

"A Kodak Vest Pocket? Are you kidding me?" Oliver goes to his suitcase. "It just so happens…" Oliver pulls out his own Kodak Vest Pocket "I have one in Blue!" Anya laughs.

"I see you have great taste. It's so convenient right? This is so much better than the old blockish brownie. I have one of those too, but this is easier to pack."

"I say the same thing," Oliver says nodding in agreement, "I wrote a letter to Mr. Eastmen himself commending the product. I have to ask, did you get any movie star snaps when you were in Hollywood?"

"Are you kidding, she used her 'royal privilege' to meet Charlie Chaplin!" Dimitri laughs.

"Dimitri!" Anya's cheeks turn a deep red out of embarrassment.

"What, it's true, and you had no shame or regrets about it!" A big toothy grin appears on Dimitri's face. He was clearly enjoying teasing his wife.

"Really?" Oliver asks, "You've met him? Amazing fellow isn't he? He and my father worked together briefly, setting up a film school, and proposing what later became the Academy. Mayer was the real force behind that though. Even though I've acted, it's still surreal to meet the real stars in person and realize they're people too so to-"

"Wait," Anya raises a hand to stop Oliver, "you're an actor?"

"Well," Oliver shrugs, "sort of? I haven't done it recently. The last thing I was in was Rumrunners in '26, as a reformed street rat. Before that I was in The Drummerboy, Treasure Island, and I did a lot Two Brothers comedies with Ben before he became a fulltime revenuer."

"Oliver, you're too modest for your own good."

"I get that a lot," Oliver chuckles. At that moment there's a knock at the door.

"Mr. Cross? The dinning steward is asking whether her highness will be having'

"Hold on, I can't hear you through the door." Oliver opens it to see one of the agents. "What was that about dinner?"

"The steward is asking if her highness wants dinner in her compartment or in the dinning car? Oh, forgive me your grace," the agent bows.

"I guess we'll take it in the dining car? Care to join us Oliver?"

"It'd be my pleasure your highness," Oliver bows, "thanks for the heads up." He says to the agent. "Shall we?" Oliver motions. Anya and Dimitri leave Oliver's cabin.

"Oh by the way Oliver, Anya is just fine," Anya assures Oliver.

"As you wish, Anya." Oliver smiles.