Rule #17: Don’t hold grudges.  Forgive and forget!

            Sungmin walked into the lobby outside of Changmin’s office and nodded to his secretary, Victoria Song.  “Morning, darling.”

            Although she was on the phone, she covered the mouthpiece.  “Good morning, Agent S,” she said, smiling warmly at him.  “Should I bring you in some coffee?”

            “Please.”

            “Cream?  No sugar?”

            “You know how I like it,” Sungmin answered, winking at her before he pushed open the door to Changmin’s office and let himself in.  Max was looking at his computer, a disgruntled look on his face, and then glanced over at Sungmin as he closed the door.  “You rang, boss?”

            Changmin nodded, still frowning as he pointed to the seat across from him.  Sungmin sat down and leaned back in his seat.  It was only five o’clock in the morning, but Sungmin was accustomed to getting up well before the crack of dawn to practice his martial arts for a couple hours before work, so he wasn’t the least bit tired.  If anything, he was just anxious to know what had everyone else at the office so early in the morning.

            Thankfully, Changmin wasn’t one to draw things out unnecessarily.  “I just got a call from the president’s head of security.  They have a guest from America that’s been drawing a lot of unwanted attention—by terrorist groups and other countries hoping to start trouble for us—and they’re worried that he’s going to meet his doom before he even makes it out on his flight later today, back home.  If this political figure dies in our country, it would have serious repercussions for us as a country for a very long time.”

            “How does this pertain to NIS?” Sungmin asked, narrowing his eyes at Changmin as Victoria quietly opened the door and walked into the room.

            “Your history as a bodyguard years ago and very successful run as an NIS agent to date has the government convinced that you would make the perfect person assigned to protect this gentleman for the remainder of his stay in South Korea.”

            Sungmin rolled his eyes.  “I retired from being a bodyguard six years ago!”

            Victoria handed Sungmin his coffee.  “Your coffee, as requested.”

            Sungmin took a preliminary sip.  “Ah, is everything you touch this delicious?” Sungmin questioned.

            Victoria smirked, her red lips shimmering in the florescent lights, the only splash of color in a monochrome office.  “There’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?”

            Changmin leaned back in his chair and rubbed his hand over his eyes.  “Quit flirting with my secretary, Agent S.”

            Victoria headed back out of the room, her high heels clicking on the black and white linoleum flooring, and closed the door behind her as she left.  Both men watched her until she was out of sight.  “Hell, no,” Sungmin said, taking another sip of his coffee. 

            “She’s sleeping with me.”

            “I don’t care,” Sungmin said, shaking his head. 

            Changmin frowned.  “If you touch her, I swear to God I’ll—”

            When Sungmin started laughing, Changmin finally realized that his agent was pulling his leg and calmed down.  “She’s all yours, Max.  I admit that she’s playful and daring, but I like my women a little more…feisty.”

            “Whatever.  Back to business.  I know that you’re not officially a bodyguard anymore, but would you just watch this guy until he boards his flight at Incheon International Airport this afternoon.  There’s rumors that the North Koreans have paid the Praying Mantis to take out this guy.”

            Sungmin nearly spilled his coffee.  “The Praying Mantis?”

            Changmin nodded.

            “You should have said that from the beginning!  Of course, I’ll do it!”

            The director of the National Intelligence Service slumped his shoulders.  “Really?  You don’t give a crap about protecting this country’s integrity, but the prospect of meeting the Praying Mantis has you eager to participate?”

            “Asia’s most notorious assassin!” Sungmin pointed out, leaning forward in his seat.  “Thought to be a woman hell-bent on proving that men don’t run the gun-for-hire business.  She’s completely badass!  Do you even know how she gets her name?”

            Changmin shook his head, not necessarily caring.

            “When praying mantises mate, the female bites the head off the male.  This woman has a tendency to blow the heads clean off of men she’s assassinating.  Not in all cases.  It seems that she only does this when she finds them particularly vile beings, as the theory goes.  Otherwise, she kills them cleanly through the heart.”

            “It can’t be that easy to blow the head off a target.”

            “I think she uses a .308 sniper rifle when she’s killing them from a distance.  That seems to be the case most of the time, certainly, but they’ve found a couple beheaded bastards that they think might have been her work as well.”

            “What makes them think that?”

            “There was a little origami praying mantis at both crime scenes.”

            Changmin cringed.  “Lovely.  Sounds pleasant.  I hope I never have the misfortune to ever run into her.”

            Sungmin smiled to himself.  “Wouldn’t it be interesting if she really did show up?”

            “If she does, you’re probably as good as dead, idiot.”

            “We’ll see.”

            “Just be careful.”

Later that morning…

            The young woman parked her car in the airport parking lot and killed the engine.  She put on her sunglasses and pocketed her keys before hopping out of her neon green BMW and slung her duffle bag over her shoulder.  She headed to the greenway where the cars would pull up to the airport and looked around for a decent tree with a fair amount of leaves on it.  It was late summer, but the trees were still holding onto their leaves for a few more weeks, thankfully, or her job would have been a hell of a lot harder. 

            “You’ll do,” she said, looking up at a particularly tall one.  She glanced around and then began to climb up the trunk of the tree.  It was still a couple hours before the man was due to come, so once she was high up and found a decent perch, she simply settled in for a long wait and took out an apple to munch on. 

            She watched the comings and goings of the travelers from the airport itself.  She’d be taking a flight in the next couple days herself.  This would be the last big job she would need to ensure her financial future, she figured.  At the young age of twenty-five, she would be able to retire and never have to worry about money again.  After growing up in poverty, it was a luxury she never thought she would have until she discovered her ability to shoot well as a rebellious teen.

            But after this, no more.  She would take the money and run.  This was the big one.  The hit that would make her a multi-millionaire in one afternoon.  And that was enough.  She knew better than to stick in the business longer than she had to.  She’d either get caught or killed. 

            As the hours ticked away, the police presence grew thick on the ground, but no one seemed to notice her presence in the tree.  She’d been there a long time without moving around or making a sound.  She slowly, cautiously opened her bag and pulled out her rifle and pushed her sunglasses up onto her head so she could look through the site. 

            As the caravan of cars began to pull in to the road leading up the airport, she steadied herself as she watched for the politician.  The black limousine pulled up amongst the police cars, their lights flashing all around.  Several men with headsets exited first to look over the area and to keep people away from the man.  Then he walked out himself, decked out in his expensive grey suit. 

            She shifted the gun, aiming carefully.  The first shot had to hit.  The bodyguards would certainly push him back into the armored car or the airport if given too much time to react.  Sweat formed on her f