An American Contractor in Konoha

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any associated intellectual properties. If I did I would probably be able to draw something other than stick figures.

Warning: I don't pull any punches with my language or how the world really works. I have been places most Americans have never heard of and some of the things I have seen people do to each other, socially and psychologically as well as physical violence, would make your skin crawl. It is a really ugly world and some of that is going to reflect in my writing, especially a story like this. Oh yeah it is also a self insert, maybe you should just stop reading now…

Author's forward: It has been a while since I have written anything for the FFML and I have had quite a few changes in my life since then. I graduated from college and embarked on a wildly unsuccessful career working for the government. I then discovered my skills and experience were worth a lot more money overseas. I am not some Blackwater super commando nor have I ever shot up a traffic circle in Baghdad, however I am a bit more "handy with the steel" than your average mall ninja and after having driven in the Middle East I can certainly understand the temptation. My inspiration for this comes from the works of Contrabardus AKA Carrotglace and TFK-fan118. You can find them both on and you will probably enjoy their stories a lot more then mine. I'll be using my email handle to refer to my avatar mainly for PERSEC (personal security) reasons. Not that I don't trust you, I just don't trust anyone.

Some things you do for love of country. Some things you do for love of money. When you are really lucky you get to do something for love of both.

Time: 0430 hours Date: June 30 2012 Location: Main Supply Route Orlando, Asscrackistan.

We crossed the border into Asscrackistan just after dawn. Passing through a checkpoint manned by sleepy National Guardsmen from Ohio into the latest country occupied by America in her continuing global war on terror. After the 2008 elections we thought the war was coming to an end, but increasing violence all over the middle east threatening the entire world's supply of oil, a series of brutal attacks in Europe and Asia and the first use of suicide bombers inside the continental United States has the US war machine back in high gear. Of course where the US military goes, so go the contractors. With so many fronts to this war America would have to reintroduce the draft on a World War Two scale to be able to meet all of her commitments. Since this will never fly back home, the Department of Defense has once again thrown open the doors to allow for civilians to perform functions typically only done by soldiers.

That is what I am doing back in the Middle East. This is my first convoy protection mission along with 11 other contractors spread out in 3 trucks bristling with machineguns and weighed down with welded on armor. We are guarding 36 semi trucks hauling supplies for the British Army driven by third country nationals from all over the former British Empire. At least they mostly speak English.

I can't say I am impressed with this company; it seems pretty unprofessional the way they just threw us together with no train up period or even a chance to get to know our fellow guards. I am riding in the back seat of a Chevy pickup truck sagging under the weight of an armored gun tub in the bed with an ancient Russian machine gun manned by an Aussie that claims to be ex AUS SAS. The driver used to be a cop in San Antonio and the vehicle commander is a former US Army Ranger that did 3 tours in Iraq before deciding to try his hand as a civilian. Our personal weapons are a mixture of rifles and submachine guns that look like they were bought in the second hand section of the local weapons bazaar.

It is one of those gorgeous desert mornings where the sun is just starting to rise and if you are half drunk and squint your eyes just right you can sort of see, but not quite, why people have been killing each other over this sandbox for most of recorded human history. At least it isn't hot yet.

A few miles down the road I start to get butterflies in my stomach. I can't tell why but for some reason I am nervous. Scanning the road ahead all I see is sand, scraps of rubber from tires that have blown out, and the carcass of a dead camel. Nothing I haven't seen a hundred times before. It happens just as we pass the camel. A feeling of pressure and heat and then nothing as the truck I am riding in and the four of us are torn into wreckage and the unrecognizable hunks of meat left by a large IED.

Time: N/A, Date: N/A. The Pearly Gates, Heaven.

One minute I was riding in a gun truck listening to my partners lie about how many Philipina girls they have fucked since they got in country, the next I am standing before a frowning St. Peter who is looking at me with an expression of mixed disdain and astonishment. Only one thought went through my mind.

"Well, this sucks." I said while looking at my new flowing white robes that have replaced my 5.11 utilities and body armor.

Judging by the deepening frown from history's most famous fisherman my ability to put my foot in my mouth has surpassed even Saotome Ranma.

"Well, I can assure you the alternative is a lot worse." He said with a testy voice. Now how may I help you, sir?"

I swear there was a five second pause between the "you" and that last "sir," Does this guy have a problem with me personally or is there some kind of holy hazing ritual I am unfamiliar with.

I decided that being as polite as possible to the gatekeeper of heaven can only help my chances of having a pleasant eternity. "I'm sorry sir, I was just a little surprised to be here so suddenly. I had always planned on dieing in bed at the age of 120 surrounded by my adoring family and friends." I dissembled, "I have always tried my best to live a good life and keep to a personal code of honor inspired by the Bible" I said, laying on the ingratiating act as thick as I thought I could get away with. "Please let me pass on to my eternal reward sir and I won't trouble you anymore." I almost choked on the last bit, but I really really don't want to go to hell. I hate the heat, despite how much time I have spent in the desert in recent years.

He looked me over like a bug and I got a sudden mental image of a trap door opening in the clouds under my feet and me falling down, down, down… I was still discovering my new fear of falling when St. Peter started talking again; "We don't get a lot of your kind here," the sneer was almost palpable. What did I ever do to this guy? "But your name is in my book. Along with a very detailed description of your life. You had better give thanks to the Almighty I don't have some of Michael's soldiers bounce you down where you belong."

With this speech out of the way the most famous fisherman and probably rudest gate guard in history waved me through, as the giant pearl that makes up the gate to heaven split down the middle and opened wide to let me in. As I stepped through I heard St. Peter mutter under his breath: "I'll be watching you mercenary." In a decidedly unpleasant tone of voice that sent shivers up my recently blown up spine.

So that was it. I have gotten the "mercenary" thing from a lot of people over the years. Generally from liberal twits or Soldiers pissed off I make more money then they do. You develop a thick skin pretty quickly in the business or you find another line of work. Security contractors aren't mercenaries, we are security guards. Nothing more or less. We just happen to be a bit more heavily armed then the Wackenhut guy you may have seen around town. Unless of course you have ever met any of the Wackenhut guards that work at the Nevada Test Site or Oak Ridge, those guys have some really cool toys. "I wonder if he posts on Democraticunderground dot com," I mused as I walked into town on a street made of gold.

Time: N/A, date: N/A. Location: Starbucks store number 777777, Heaven.

I was at the counter of the Heaven Starbucks waiting for my large coffee. One good thing about this place is the counter staff at Starbucks all know that when I say I want a large coffee with cream and sugar I don't mean a grande half calf venti latte whatever, I mean I want a large coffee with cream and sugar. I have taken to hanging out in Starbucks a lot here. Normally I would prefer a biker bar or similar low class dive, but this place doesn't run to that sort of thing. Oh, there are bars mind you. The son of the guy that runs this place has a great joint for wine, but the ambiance just ain't there.

I can't really tell you how long I have been dead. Time doesn't have much meaning in Heaven. It is strange and hard to explain. I would probably get a headache thinking about it I wasn't where I am. I am used to a life of adventure where I can travel off to a foreign land at a moments notice and do all sorts of crazy things and even get paid for it. This place with its class, sophistication, boredom, safety, and ennui is driving me out of my mind. I need action and adventure, I need excitement and challenge. I need to ride a motorcycle flat out, heck bent for leather over a twisting mountain road, I need the multiple near death experiences you get by driving a couple blocks in a third world city. I need to cuss. That's right I can't even use foul language here. For a while there I sounded like Ned Flanders every time I opened my mouth. It was darn diddly-arned annoying.

While I was lost in thought my order got delivered and I started walking towards an empty table. The place was just starting to fill up with the lunch rush and I want to sit alone somewhere I don't have to listen to people talk about how happy they are and how they can't wait until their family can join them here. That topic of conversation is pretty morbid if you think about it and it would probably bother me quite a bit. If I weren't in Heaven.

I must have had my head wedged firmly up my rear end, because I failed to notice the five foot three inch mid-twenties brunette with the truly heavenly body filling out her robes. That is until I slammed right into her and spilled my now miraculously room temperature coffee all over her.

"Hey watch it you clumsy pea brained jerk!" She yelled as her eyes started flashing with the first signs of anger I have seen since I got here. My heart skipped a beat at the fire in her eyes. Not in the, hey that chick is really hot and paying attention to me kind of way it would have when I was alive. It was more an 'Oh thank you God for this reprieve from boredom.' I think I heard a "Your welcome."

Grinning like the maniac I am, I immediately retaliated with my own salvo: "You watch where I'm going runt!" Honestly, it was entirely my fault, but I was bored and frustrated and needed the release.

I swear steam came out of her ears. "Don't yell at me you blockhead! Look at me, my robes are ruined and I have to get back to work in 15 minutes!"

By this time there is a general exodus from the coffee shop in progress. People, angels, and other types getting out of Dodge like something bad is about to happen. It's Heaven, it's not like anything can happen here. Besides this is the most fun I have had since I died.

"I'll yell at whoever I want pipsqueak. Don't tell me what to do, like you're some smelly hippy whining that my SUV is killing whales and making the rainforest cry!" I hollered back as I crossed my arms in front of my chest and stared down at the brunette who by now was an interesting shade of red I have only seen on the faces of people who have been covered in pepper spray.

"What's wrong with caring about endangered species and the environment!" She yelled while stomping her tiny foot.

This is was getting better and better. I started smirking at the new directions my insults could take and my grin turned downright evil when I noticed that she had a small Sailor Moon figurine attached to the purse she is carrying over her shoulder. "An anime loving hippy?" I thought to myself, "Oh boy this is gonna be fun".

I was trying to come up with a way to link her to Chibi Usa and Berkley when "He" appeared in the front door of the coffee shop to my left. At least half a foot taller then my 6 feet even, 220 pounds of solid muscle, dressed in old style body armor made of gleaming metal and carrying an unsheathed sword in his hands with FLAMES licking off the edge, large wings on his back. Angel. Not one of Charlie's either.

I didn't really think about it at the time but as I turned to face him I stepped so that I was between him and the little Sailor Moon fan. I may be a hard case, but I wouldn't stand a chance against this guy. It was time to de-escalate. I raised my hands in what I hoped looked friendly to the big guy. I was also hoping he wouldn't lop them off at the wrist with his burning pig-sticker, he was looking kind of peeved.

He looked through me with piercing eyes whose color I can't even describe. When he spoke his voice was soft yet it echoed off the walls like thunder.

"Just what do you fools think you are doing?"

I was through. No excuses came to my lips. My feet rooted to the floor as though they had been there a thousand years. Behind me the half-pint was just stuttering; "I, I'm, I was, we were just" over and over again.

Not getting a satisfactory answer he just narrowed those freaky eyes, sheathed his sword and growled out: "Follow me." as he stalked out of Starbucks.

I glanced back and craned my neck down to meet the eyes of my erstwhile adversary that were now brimming with unshed tears. Tears of anger mostly, given the set of her jaw and the glare she was directing my way. I shrugged my shoulders in an apology and headed after the big guy with the wings.

She wasn't far behind and as we walked up the street I decided to try and have a last civil conversation. After all at that point I was pretty sure where I was headed. I felt kinda guilty about getting the shrimp into trouble along with me, but hey, what are you gonna do?

"So uh hey, do you know who the big guy with the fancy hardware is?" I whispered to her.

She gave me the same kind of look you would give a particularly ugly baby, (half pitying and half disgusted in case you have never seen an ugly baby) "That's Michael." she said "Arch-angel of War."

"That would explain the flaming sword. So I take it we've stepped into a big pile of doody with both feet here, huh?"

She turned her face away from me and muttered; "What do you mean we? Jerk."

I could understand the hostility, but there was no reason I couldn't be friendly on my way to the gallows. "I'm Outlaw One I offered, I was in security before I came here."

She looked set to ignore me for the rest of the walk, but thought better of it. "My name is Emily, but you can call me Hitomi. Everyone else does." I looked at her clearly Caucasian self and raised an eyebrow.

"Really?" I asked.

"Yeah she said defensively; "I'm an otaku, that's what everyone at the anime club used to call me. I was in art school before I came here, I was going to be a famous American manga artist."

"Oh," I replied "I used to like to watch anime during my down time. So how did you come to be in heaven at such a young age?"

She almost looked uncomfortable with the subject, but it must have been my imagination. "A drunk driver on the I-605. He rammed my Prius into a guard rail with his truck. He didn't get a scratch and here I am." She looked at me. "How about you? How did you arrive in the after life."

Now it was my turn to feel self conscious. "In a bunch of little pieces." I ground out and looked away.

Time: N/A, date: N/A. Location: Main Executive Office, Heaven.

It didn't take long to arrive at a large white building that had the look of Government architecture, if the government in question was never troubled by cost overruns, delays, or corruption. Really, what else did I expect?

We made our way to the back of the building past a maze of offices all tastefully decorated in a motif that actually made them seem comfortable and efficient. I had no doubt the beings working there loved their job and their work spaces.

You know I have actually had nightmares about working in an office like that?

At last we came to an ordinary door and Michael waved us toward it while making no effort to follow or even open the door for us. His job was done apparently and we now had as little meaning to him as the carpet under his combat sandals.

I looked at the runt who was still ignoring me totally. Then opened the door and walked inside.

Time: N/A, date: N/A. Location: God's office.

You ever have one of those moments when you are absolutely sure you have gone through the looking glass and are sure nothing will ever be the same again?

I got that as soon as I walked in and glanced around. The Lord God Almighty was just standing behind his desk with a welcoming smile on his face beckoning us to come in. He looked like a kindly grandfather more then anything else, but his presence was incredible. I have never felt anything like it before or since. I dropped to my knees and bowed my head waiting for whatever terrible judgment to be passed down for my transgressions.

God just chuckled and said; "Quit acting like a child caught doing something bad and stand up. I have a job for both of you."

I didn't know what he wanted, but at that point I was ready to do anything, especially if it would keep me out of hell. The runt (who had been prostrated beside me) was looking equally relieved at the prospect of a second chance no matter what form it might take.

"Before I explain I want you meet someone." He said as he gestured to the child I hadn't noticed standing beside his desk smirking at us for making a spectacle of ourselves.

Little emo looking punk, already I didn't care for him.

"This is Uchi…" at that point The Lord God Almighty was interrupted by the most horrible fangirl screech I have ever heard in my life.

"Sasukeeeeeee!" screeched the girl beside me. Clasping her hands together and jumping up and down.

I jammed my fingers in my ears in a reflex action wishing I had some ear plugs. I swear to the guy standing behind the desk that the kid, who really did bear an uncanny resemblance to a younger, live action Uchiha Sasuke, sweat-dropped like an anime character. God just demonstrated his incredible power by sitting there and smiling indulgently instead of nuking the site from orbit.

After the screaming was over the big guy continued his introduction, "Yes this is Uchiha Sasuke, whom you know from the Naruto series of manga and anime."

He said a bunch of really complicated stuff I couldn't really understand but the gist of it is that He created more then one timeline and pretty much every work of fiction in any one of these timelines is actually the product of an individual who can sort of peer through the veil between the worlds and see significant events with their mind and then record them. Most authors don't even know they are doing this.

The Sasuke He was introducing us to did not come from the main Naruto universe but actually an alternate one. And the reason he was in heaven was that, like me and short stuff, he was dead.

"This Sasuke didn't deal with the death of his clan as well as some other versions did. Unfortunately he committed suicide."

The kid looked at the floor and blushed. I felt bad for him. Hitomi went over and pulled the kid into an embrace. He didn't look comfortable.

God continued speaking; "Because he is a child his soul will not suffer eternal torment, but since he committed a willful act of self destruction I cannot send him back, and his world needs Uchiha Sasuke."

I raised my eyebrow at this, but wasn't about to interrupt a being that could unmake my very existence by will power alone. I mean who the heck needs Sasuke?

The King of Kings and Lord of Hosts may have noticed my facial gesture or He may have been planning to continue. "You see if Uzumaki Naruto doesn't become friends/rivals with Sasuke then Naruto will not have the willpower needed to keep the Kyuubi in check."

Hitomi looked kind of confused at this, but I understood perfectly. Sometimes you need a good rival to help sharpen your focus.

"This of course could be very bad for Konoha, especially if it happens after the death of the Hokage during the Chuunin exams. A full manifestation by the Kyuubi would be the equivalent destruction of a large scale nuclear war."

Sasuke blushed even more in embarrassment over what his actions might bring about. Hitomi paled at the mention of nuclear weaponry. I frowned because I had a sneaking suspicion where all this was headed.

"Now then" said God, "here is what I want you all to do. Outlaw since you are having a hard time adjusting to life here I am sending you to take Sasuke's place in Konoha. You will take control his body and step into his life from the point he died. Your mission is to keep the Kyuubi from taking over Naruto's body and manifesting into the physical world at all costs. How you accomplish this task is up to you, but I suggest you not announce to the people of Konoha that you are my messenger sent to save them from destruction." I smirked at the mental image that brought.

"Hitomi" On hearing her name the girl in question popped to attention and saluted, I almost burst out laughing, "since you are an expert on the subject, you are going to act as Outlaw's contact with heaven. He will be able to contact you and ask you questions about the Naruto universe and you will be able to give him other aid via heaven. Nothing to extraordinary in keeping with the covert nature of the mission, but I am not leaving one of my agents out in the cold with no support."

"Sasuke; I want you to train up Outlaw for his mission. Teach him as much as you know about how to be you. He also needs to know everything you know about Ninjutsu, Taijutsu, and Genjutsu. I am counting on you son, I know you can do it." Sasuke drew himself up at the praise and looked determined to do his best.

God looked around at the three of us. "So any questions?" he asked.

I looked at my two new partners and seeing they weren't going to say anything cleared my throat and asked the obvious, to me anyway, question. "How much are we getting paid for this, Sir?"

If I wasn't talking to God Almighty I would have thought I took him by surprise with that. Sasuke was looking at me in shock and the half pint looked like she was trying not to swallow her tongue.

Really I expected it from the hippy girl, but Sasuke is from a ninja village with an economy based on the idea that people with special skills should get paid to put their lives in danger.

The Lord chuckled, "Of course you are right, you will be paid for this venture. And I think it will be best Outlaw, if we put you on the payroll as an independent contractor. You'll attract less demonic attention that way. If you will go see Michael he will have a contract for you to sign and give you all a briefing on the nuts and bolts of the mission."

Time: N/A, date: N/A. Location: Guardian Angel Training Facility briefing room 104, Purgatory

Sasuke, Hitomi, and myself were sitting behind a row of folding tables while Michael the Archangel went over our mission details.

"Outlaw 1, you know how stupid that name is? I feel like I lose IQ points every time I use it." Michael stated.

"Read the Forward to the chapter and quit breaking the forth wall" I growled.

"Right, you'll be the primary operator for this mission. Your soul will be inserted into the body left by Uchiha Sasuke after he committed suicide."

I felt the need to interrupt at this point, "If I am being put into a corpse, then how am I going to accomplish the mission?"

Michael looked at me condescendingly. "The body will be brought back to life and healed enough for you to survive the injuries. Your first priority will be to seek medical attention. Following that you will assume the role of Uchiha Sasuke and attempt to make contact with your target. From there you will, by whatever means necessary, prevent the personality of Uzumaki Naruto from being subsumed by the demon known as the Kyuubi no Yoko which would lead to a full manifestation of the demon and the destruction of most human life in that time stream."

"No pressure there" I thought.

"Hitomi, you will be the information officer and also function as Outlaw's control. You will stay in purgatory and using a Holy Communications Center maintain contact with him. You will have access to internet from your home timeline for intelligence gathering, but be warned, any changes Outlaw makes will NOT be online nor will the effects of those changes. Sasuke will also work with you and provide local knowledge you may not be able to access. You will have visual as well as audio contact with Outlaw so you can also act as a look out during battle. You will also relay any messages or orders from Heaven. You will be our sole contact with Outlaw in an attempt to divert demonic attention from this operation."

"Sasuke; you're the head trainer. Your job is to teach Outlaw everything you know. Since this is purgatory the restrictions to physical and mental discomfort are turned off. You will also have access to the training facilities here. They will be able to simulate any environment or weaponry you need."

"Like the Danger Room?" I interupted.

The Arch Angel continued on as if I hadn't said anything, "I suggest you start with taijutsu as soon as we are finished here."

I swear I saw a smile for half a second there. It may have been my imagination though.

"While you do that I will begin Hitomi's training with the communications equipment."

End Chapter One

End notes:

This should be the last my avatar sees of Heaven for quite sometime and the last time it appears in the story. I just got tired of all the Kami-sama/Ah! Megami-sama stuff that gets used as a vehicle in so many self inserts, and decided that if I needed a Deus Ex Machina to explain my presence in the Naruto world then why not use the God I believe in?

Next chapter will cover insertion into Konoha and the contractor's first meeting with some of the dramatis personae.

Updates may take a while. I am writing this in my spare time while working in the Middle East and we are pretty busy.