Steve takes a young corporal aside when transport arrives and hands them a sealed letter addressed to Colonel Phillips. Impresses upon them that it is to be delivered IMMEDIATELY, and that it's for his eyes only.
Starstruck, the kid nods fervently, tucks the letter firmly into his jacket, and scurries back to his station. Steve's got no doubt the kid will come through. Being Captain America does have a precious few advantages.
Stalking like a big cat through the body of the plane, he passes the prisoner under guard. A small vicious part of Steve roars with satisfaction when Zola cowers away from him. Steve pauses, aware that he's looming and making no effort to stop.
Go ahead. Say something, you spineless little bastard. he thinks. Try me.
The poisonous glare he's aiming at the balding scientist promises a gruesome fate if the man utters a single word. Just give me an excuse. Spare me the paperwork.
Zola wilts and pointedly stares at the floor in silence.
Steve keeps walking.