Zemo is in his lab, filling a beaker with a strange red serum. Schmidt enters the lab, "Is it ready, yet?" Zemo sighs, "You haven't given me much time, but I believe so." Schmidt examines it, "Good. I have a lot riding on this Zemo, so don't fail me." Zemo smiles and begins to say something, but is interrupted. Lieutenant Kraus and a few of his men enter the lab.
"Nice place, Zemo," he gloats as he looks around the stone-walled room.
"Herr Kraus," Schmidt greets him derisively, "What a pleasant surprise... dropping into my lab without notice like this."
"You've done it. You've finally done it," Kraus says as he examines the various chemicals and devices around the lab, "One of your spies are unaccounted for. He hasn't been seen for weeks."
"An unfortunate attack by the French Resistance. Didn't you get my report?"
"Hmm, I suppose it was lost. Feel free to send it again," he moves in closely, "I thought I might warn you that there is currently an investigation concerning the rumors of your secret, unauthorized spy missions. The tribunal will review your case in two days."
"They have no case! I've been loyal to the party!"
"Perhaps," a smile spreads across his face, "If I were you, Herr Schmidt, I'd start getting used to the idea of becoming a private again."
He pats Schmidt on the shoulder, turns, and leaves with his men in tow. Schmidt watches them go, infuriated. Meanwhile, Zemo eyes his formula nervously. "Prep me for the serum," Schmidt begins to unfasten the buttons of his jacket.
"Herr Schmidt, let's be reasonable," Zemo says calmly, "I know the situation seems dire, but -"
"Don't argue," Schmidt demands as he throws his jacket onto a table.
"If you'll just hear me out."
"You can't charm me any longer, Zemo," he says finally, "Give me the serum!"
Zemo shakes his head and steps back, "I can't do that. It's too dangerous... just be patient. I can run a few tests. I can -".
Schmidt angrily shoves Zemo out of the way, snatching a needle from a nearby tray. He plunges the syringe into the serum and fills it with the red liquid. "We don't know the consequences," Zemo shouts. Schmidt gives him a stern look, shutting him up, "I die or I succeed." He braces himself just before he plunges the syringe into his own neck with a loud grunt. His thumb presses the plunger down, injecting the fluid into his veins. Muscles clench tightly. His pupils dilate. He grits his teeth and drops the syringe.
Zemo watches helplessly as Schmidt braces himself on the lab table. He's quiet for a moment, then he begins to shiver. The shivers turn into full convulsions and he throws himself on the floor, screaming. His face begins to turn red and his veins throb. He clutches the top of his head, pulling out long strands of hair. Zemo quickly moves to the other side of a lab table, not wishing to see the rest. Schmidt's eye goes from brown to red and the skin around it begins to peel back, exposing a second layer of red skin.
It's daytime in France. A car pulls up in front of Schmidt's headquarters. Kraus and two of his men hurry out of the car and rush to Schmidt's front doors. The Nazis standing guard salute as Kraus rushes in; a smug look on his face and a paper in hand. The double doors to Schmidt's office open and they march inside, only to stop in their tracks. Sitting there is Lieuteneant Schmidt with his entire head hidden beneath bandages. Black gloves cover his hands and his jacket is open, revealing a shirt buttoned all the way up to his neck. Zemo is beside him, apparently checking his heartbeat under the shirt with a stethescope.
"Schmidt," Kraus begins with a hint of concern, "What happened to you?"
"An unfortunate accident during a training exercise," he responds calmly. Zemo steps back, nervously.
"I see," Kraus looks at him incredulously, but continues, indicating the letter in his hand "I have a warrant here for your immediate removal of command."
"What?," Schmidt rises to his feet.
"The matter was discussed by the tribunal. While they were unable to prove that you unlawfully sent spies overseas, they did, however, find your behavior suspicious enough for you to be placed in Belgium."
"The Ardenne Mountains?"
"For further fortification, yes. Don't worry. You'll keep your rank but you'll have plenty of other officers to watch over you. Besides, it is expected that the area won't see much combat for another year or two, so you'll be safely out of harm's way."
Behind the bandages, Schmidt's red eyes burn with fury. He says nothing, but simply stands still. Kraus turns to one of his men, "Please help Herr Schmidt in removing himself from this office." The soldier approaches, extending a hand toward Schmidt... who immediately grabs his wrist and twists it, breaking it. The soldier's scream is cut off by Schmidt as he slams his fist into his sternum, thrusting him against the brick wall hard enough to crack it. The other soldier reaches into his holster and tries to produce his pistol, but Schmidt grabs his arm, pulls him in close, and wraps his other hand around his head. He twists, snapping the neck. Zemo hides behind Schmidt's desk.
A black, leather glove snatches Kraus by the throat and lifts him off the ground. Schmidt pins him to the wall, "Did you honestly think I would allow this to happen?" Kraus tries to break his grip while clawing at Schmidt's bandaged face, revealing red flesh underneath. "There is a reason why I am in the position that I am in," Schmidt ignores him as the bandages are torn away from his red eyes, revealing a little more. "Wasn't it obvious? I don't care about the Third Reich! I care about my legacy!," Kraus gasps for his final breath as he finally pulls a handful of bandages away. "I care about being immortal!," as Kraus dies, he sees the true face of Johhann Schmidt, and is horrified. Many of the bandages have been pulled back, exposing a mostly fleshless face with thin, red skin. The nose is gone, the eyes are sunken in and the lips are nearly non-existent. A Red Skull. "And I have achieved it!" Kraus' body drops and the Red Skull removes the final bandages from his face, revealing the back of his bald head. "I'll have to blame this on another attack by the Resistance. You'll vouch for me, won't you, Zemo?," he asks quietly. Zemo nods, fear-stricken.