Zola explained for quite a while before Steve finally understood. Simply put, it was still the Nazi tactic of exploiting the masses, only mixed with some alien elements and high-tech methods.
"This is Red Skull's plan, isn't it? Where is he? Let him face me. Since when did he get used to hiding behind a tank converted from a washing machine?"
"This is my plan! Mine!" The Zola robot jumped up, its heavy body thudding against the floor. The corners of its enormous face drooped as well. "Red Skull has been dead for a long time! This is now the era of Zola! My! Era!"
If he were still that bespectacled little dwarf, he would probably be red-faced and roaring at the top of his lungs by now.
However, this mechanical body clearly lacked that function. Even its speaker output was limited, so it was not particularly loud.
Steve tried dislocating his palm to see if he could slip out of the handcuffs, while saying:
"I don't believe you. This plan sounds like Red Skull, smells like Red Skull—it has to be his plan. Stop pretending. You've already captured me. Does he not even have the courage to see me?"
"I! Told! You!" Zola was so furious that he flung the device in his hand away. His two flexible arms, like exhaust hood ducts, flailed wildly over his head. "Red Skull is dead! Dead! I will become Hydra's supreme leader! I will guide humanity toward the correct path of development! It was I, the genius Arnim Zola, God Z, who devised this perfect plan!"
Steve burst into laughter, laughing so fearlessly and heroically, full of a Superhero's noble spirit, using it to cover the sound of his joints slipping out of place.
"Hahahaha. I don't believe you! Unless you can