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ve captured Pleven.
Constantinople is defenseless, however...
Britain is threatening us with war
and is about to start military actions...
We've decided to relay the following
message to Queen Victoria:
'A Turkish spy has compromised England's
honor presenting himself
as a British subject...'
- Have they found McLaughlin?
- Not a trace...
It's clear now that he was the real
Anwar-effendi. Failure after failure...
- Cut the talk, Lavrentiy Arkadyevich.
- I'm sorry, Your Majesty...
You, Fandorin...
- You have to understand that the way
you present the evidence,
your ability to convince,
your overall manner after all,
will affect the outcome of this war.
We must to seed disaccord
between Turkey and Britain.
God protect you, Fandorin. I trust you.
Constantinople is in our grasp, our enemies
are fleeing. I would like to thank all of you...
Let's drink to our friend Charles -
the bravest reporter in the world!
And finally, gentlemen, let's
drink to our inspiration,
muse and the guardian angel ...
Here's to Varvara Andreyevna.
Gentlemen!..
- Is war really over?
- Look. These are the Turkish negotiators...
There's no truce. But the shooting is over.
- And Fandorin is still not here...
Think of this, a Russian general entering
the gate of Constantinople in all his glory...
- The army bureaucrats won't let me.
- I have an idea, gentlemen!
Why don't we take a ride on a train?
The Turks will think their
negotiators are coming back
and will let us through.
It's going be hot news!
- Too risky!
- How many troops can we get
on the train?
Half a battalion maximum? Suicide!
You are right, it's too damn risky...
It's not the first time
I violate orders to fight Turks...
Gentlemen!
Attention!..
Excuse me, gentlemen. I think
we can't go into Constantinople.
The Turks will see there's too
few of us and will crush us.
Can we get off here? In Sultan-Kabuse?
We can make some noise there...
That's my life -
between a rock and a hard place...
Still alive, however...
God is gracious...
I'm as lonely as a winter bear.
Sometimes my heart aches so much...
- You have such funny whiskers.
- My public image. Soboleff's exclusive trait.
Just a word from you
and I'll shave them off.
Well?
Well what?
Damn me... Varvara Andreyevna,..
...make me happy, will you marry...
The town of Sultan-Kabuse, Your Excellency.
We are here.
Send in the scouts...
What's this?
- Bank of Sultan-Kabuse.
- Use it as the HQ.
Send the train back for more reinforcements.
Assign the sentries! Open the door.
We've waited for eight hours already...
Sorry, Your Excellency,
but the train is not here yet.
- Fandorin?
- How do you do, gentlemen!
- Erast Petrovich, how come?
- Why are you dressed as a Turk?
- I came from Constantinople. You must leave
immediately. You can't even imagine...
- Soboleff will never retreat.
- Nothing to retreat with. The train's gone...
General, sir, do you
understand what you have done?
Kicked Sultan's ass,
that's what I did.
Looks more like you kicked
our own Czar in the back. See?
I do. Constantinople.
No. Over there...
The British fleet...
According to the secret
Anglo-Turkish treaty
if a single Russian soldier
enters Constantinople
the British fleet will commence fire.
Britain will declare war
on Russia.
Our troops are tired and spread thin...
- Fandorin? God, I missed...
- What?..
- the details of your travel General Mizinov
had told me. He said you were in London.
I was in Constantinople.
Excuse me.
General, we can't fight England.
A single mistake and we'll
face another Crimean War.
Damn! Let's retreat.
Assemble the troops!
How are the things in Constantinople?
Have you exposed McLaughlin?
McLaughlin is not Anwar.
- Really? So who is Anwar?
- There he is!
- Merhaba, Anwar-effendi.
- What?
- It's not funny.
- First I was suspicious about d'Hevrais...
- Me?..
- Yes.
But then it became perfectly clear
that everything leads to one

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