When the Kobra Strikes!
It was some charity function or other, but what it had been for, held in the New York Museum of Natural History, didn't much matter.  What did matter was that Kobra had crashed the party.  The guests were quickly taken hostage, their money seized.  A few of the security guards had already been killed.

The money was, of course, nice, but more importantly, was the message.  Colonel Kill had been placed in charge of this mission, personally entrusted with it by the Serpent Supreme himself.  Each step brought them closer to resurrecting their glorious leader, the naga-naga.

He waved his gun in the direction of the hostages.  "You all have a glorious part to play," he said.  "Your deaths will help bring forth the Kali-Yuga, the age of change and judgement!  The blood you spill today will be envied by those who perish after you!"

He didn't believe a word of it, of course.  He was a mercenary, nothing more.  But Kobra paid well, and the Supreme Serpent did believe in it.  So when he was working for them, so did he.

He gestured toward some of the Kobra troopers he had brought with him.

"Kill them all.  Sacrifice them to the great Kali!"