Becoming President

Disclaimer: This work is not intended to offend anyone. Naruto and the United States of America do not belong to me. Naruto is the property of Masashi Kishimoto and Shueisha, while the United States of America is the property of its citizens.

Finally, it's out oh god it was so hard trying to balance my free time and writing.

…..

Naruto Uzumaki

The lights almost blinded me, while men and women shouted, drank, gambled, and committed every kind of degenerate behavior that I could imagine. This place overwhelmed me, even after 25 years of living in this world; this was nothing like I had ever experienced. Detroit was a shithole - there's no denying that - but even that shithole had some merits for a ninja like me. In my previous life, there were no big cities on the Elemental Continents; only small settlements scattered across the plains and riverbanks, surrounded by forests, deserts, or mountains piercing the sky. The few cities that existed, the country's capitals, could barely be considered cities, with populations numbering only up to ninety thousand souls.

(Note: 'I've never even been to Vegas so this is an exaggeration.)

I was trained to adapt to this condition: how to live in a forest, make water in a desert, and disguise myself as a villager in the middle of nowhere. Concrete Jungle was never my specialty. That's why Detroit is a great place for me to be reborn. Riddled with crime and other lowly scum, I couldn't find a better training ground in America for me to learn how to adapt. As I joined the military, I was already a hardened veteran…. I giggled at my exaggerated description. The skills I acquired in those early years made me a monster in urban combat and I haven't even once used molded chakra. That's why, when I was running for senator and heading my way toward D.C., I was prepared.

But Vegas, no, no, no. Vegas is a different kind of city. Well, not the city itself, merely the place where artificial cities were built. Where life was forced to be made, exploited, and sucked dry of anything valuable. Vegas is weird; the weirdest place I've ever been to. It felt fake, smelled fake; everything felt like it was some kind of giant ol' machine that was made specifically designed to fuck you up no matter who you are in every single way imaginable. Not the most charming description or polite, but that's the only thing that I could think of. Then again why should I be polite in describing a city?

"So, sir…" James called my name while looking around the oversized mall. "Where are we supposed to go exactly? You never told me."

James and I just stand around the main lobby of the hotel. I just stand there calmly watching the street view outside while James impatiently taps his foot.

I smiled at my protege and just shook my head. "If you run a secret organization that would validate every conspiracy theorist crazed rumbling would you give your location to what is essentially a stranger, James?"

"So you don't know where they are?" James sighed. "Do you at least have any means to contact them?"

"Nope. They're so paranoid that they don't give their numbers to potential members." I answered his question with his response which gave me a groan that said he was unsatisfied with the answer. Understandable given the current situation. "They just told me to wait and get inside a black…. Oh, there it is. "

A black limousine makes its way to the hotel's drop-off point. Sleek elegant and totally inauspicious yep there's no way that car screams I'm a bad guy or something like that. The car stopped and the door opened for a man wearing a rather fabulous drag with fur on hi- her neck and a stupendous amount of makeup. We made eye contact with each other and she motioned me for an air kiss and then pointed at the car.

"Is that your date sir?" James said jokingly.

"No James, that is our date," I stated without missing a beat.

James squinted at the woman's face and then whistled. "Isn't that one beautiful woman!" He smirked. Wait he doesn't realize that she is a… huh I forgot James is not a ninja eh whatever.

"That we'll do, James, that we'll do. '' ugh just imagining the possibility of a paparazzi taking a surprise photo of me will end my career. I have no qualms with the LGBTQ community but my voter base is split in half between Democrats and Republicans. I've stayed clear from identity politics as far as I can and have my stand on it ambiguous as long as possible. Just one photo will ruin half of my voter base even if I don't mind hanging out with any member of the LGBTQ community heck I've fought with one in Iraq and Afghanistan there's no shame in it. If I could take photos with them and say they have my support without political repercussions I'd say it in a heartbeat. Unfortunately not today. Today that action will be the doom of my career. Maybe in the future when I have more power I'll do it. "Cmon James, we don't want our friend waiting are we?"

"No sir, no we do not." He said with anticipation.

"Also James you know that's a guy-I mean former guy right?" the look on his face…

"What?"

……

James Veritas

James sat uncomfortably in the limo. The woman who greeted them just sat there watching him and Mr. Naru without blinking across them both with an expensive table being the only thing separating them. Her chin rests on her arm and is visibly amused by something. She giggled from time to time and had to solve herself by covering her mouth. James struggled to keep his blush from seeing that, while he did not swing that way, the woman, while her collar bones were more prominent and her Adam's apples signified that he used to be male James could not deny she was attractive. Like stupidly so…

(Just imagine her as Mihate Hiaru from when I turned my childhood friend into a girl but more mature.)

'Damn it, James, calm the fuck down!' He reprimanded himself mentally. 'You're here to help Mr. Naru not…why is she smiling at me?' The woman's smile somehow grows wider and her amber eyes now give James a knowing look while giggling.

Mr. Naru noticed that James was struggling to compose himself and decided to break the tension. "I appreciate it if you don't tease my subordinate, miss?"

"Oww, but it's so fun to tease him!" She sounded genuinely disappointed by Mr. Naru's intervention. She crossed her arms and then let out a sigh of annoyance. "It's Christine Kamikawa but you can call me Tina."

While the two of them converse James is now experiencing a crisis with his sexuality. 'Her voice oh lawd her voice.'

"I know your name, Nathaniel Russel but who's the cutie beside you?" She eyed James again, her eyes slowly blinking. James' face was now red as a tomato and imaginary steam came outside his head.

"Again please don't tease my subordinate." Mr. Naru nudged him and then motioned with his head for him to introduce himself to Tina.

"James, it's James Veritas." he struggled to say his name.

"Wait, are you that guy on YouTube that…"

"I think it's time we have a serious conversation, Miss Christina." Mr. Naru interrupted." I'm sure they have a far better reason to send you to greet us. Or am I wrong with that assessment, soldier?"

The woman smirked and her flirty playful demeanor was quickly discarded as just another mask for her. Deadly. She was deadly. Her relaxed body posture was gone and her eyes now calculating their every move. Not even trying to hide it with empty jest or flowery words. If James was a lesser man he would squirm right now. But Mr. Naru's training has somewhat made him used to this kind of bloodlust a professional killer usually exudes.

" Why is it so hard hiding yourself from a comrade?" It was not even a question, more so an annoyance that her cover was blown so easily. " Then again I am trying to fool the greatest of my kind… was it the body posture?"

"Yes," Mr. Naru chuckled. "It's hard for us soldiers to be relaxed in our demeanor. Those basic drills will stick with you. A piece of advice: wear more baggy clothes. It would help you tremendously."

" And risk being unfashionable, not a chance sir." She rolled her eyes. "Answering your previous question, yes they did have a reason why they sent me to greet you." Tina, wanting to remove the bitter awkward tension accidentally made, opened a compartment in the limo and brought out a wine giving each of our glasses while pouring shots at James and his Mr. Naru glasses.

"And those are?" he said while watching carefully at the wine Tine poured at him.

"Do you want a quick or long answer?" she offered Mr. Naru. While pouring James his portion.

"Whatever suits your needs." He drank his shots of whine.

"You're untrustworthy." Came the fast response. "You've developed a reputation Mr. Naru, an interesting reputation indeed. Unfortunately, it's a reputation that we don't want our members to have."

James could agree with her on that front. It's hard for any secretive organization to accept a man like Mr. Naru who claimed his reputation by being a hero for the public. You couldn't expect a man who on every account refused donations from lobbyists and seduction from enemies because of how loyal he is to his wife to join what is essentially a glorified sex cult. People don't just turn their personality into a full 180s so fast unless he's great at masking his true persona. While James thought that Mr. Naru was good at lying as every politician needs to lie, Mr. Naru never failed to unconsciously pour his heart out in every speech and promise he made. He's a great liar when it comes to small things that are not his core identity but when it comes to a multilevel conspiracy? Let's just say James found many discussion forums that suspected Mr. Naru planned to use the Dakotas as a launching point for his political career.

"... Especially bringing someone we don't know and not yet informed on who they are into the mix." She glared at James, making her dissatisfaction with him in the car very evident.

Mr. Naru swirled the wine on his glass, staring at the pattern it made, then smiled. " I needed support. Political support specifically. I don't need to tell you my relationship with my fellow Democrats, should I?"

Tina chuckled, "No you don't need to, sir. After all, it's all that the republican senators and fellow members would always talk about when you somehow become the topic of conversation. But that still doesn't answer my question. You could've found a better way to find political support than to… associate with us."

"The problem is Tina. I am running out of time and running out of space to make my next move." Mr. Naru put down the glass in his hand. "James, could you explain to our friend why that is?" James raised an eyebrow at Mr. Naru's passing of responsibility to him. Why does he suddenly want him to explain such complex politics? Oh. Tinad and the organization don't know James as much as they do know about James even for his YouTube clout, he's nothing to them at best they could see him as a paperboy for Mr. Naru.

'He wants me to gain their trust by showing my ability. Doesn't that mean Mr. Naru also needs them to trust me?' Being told indirectly that his cooperation with the secret organization was vital was flattering to him which means that Mr. Naru trusted his competence enough to give him a chance.

And without waiting any second James spoke.

……..

A Caesar needs an Anthony

…….

Civilian

Mark Krasinski was following the route his Google map showed on his phone. Driven excitement filled his heart that he, an adult, was now almost giddy. Today's going to be an exciting day, he'll finally be able to meet with his fellow Patriots! The goods he was delivering rattled in his truck and he reminded himself to calm himself.

They've been coordinating on the internet, well the closest thing that a group of strangers could realistically do without raising suspicion. They've tried to use a Facebook group but that was quickly ruled out because of the obvious reason; there wasn't a permanent social media group that they could comfortably call well just the main platform. It's hard when every couple of weeks they have to make and remake an internet forum and then give it strong security while safely disseminating the link to the other members while it is heavily encrypted. It was kinda impressive really, and Mark had seen impressive things the military computer guy could do. He always believed that there was a big gap between citizen hackers and military ones but he soon realized that a good hacker would never try to join the government and the only difference between the two is funding and nationalism. Safe to say their encryption is in good hands for now…

Other groups that are similar to theirs were already mysteriously disbanded. It wasn't that what they were doing wasn't technically legal, it's just that the CIA or FBI, in this case, got spooked if another armed politically motivated group propped up in the U.S, which should've been illegal to disband them, but the notion of legality never stopped them before, so why now? Even J

Mark in the past would have thought anyone joining modern militias were nutjobs, so he could understand their views on things.

And a militia of their nature? Where most, if not all, members were former special ops groups with the skills to topple governments with ease as breathing air was bound to raise suspicion. While they tried to hide as much as possible some of their cells were bound to be "unexpectedly disbanded" The F.B.I. while not as proficient as those spooks was better than them at finding these types of things. He bet that those fools already made stacks upon stacks of "intelligence" of what their daily routine is but nothing that incriminates them. Most of the intelligence they collect is useless anyway so Mark isn't that concerned.

Taking the final right turn, Mark arrives at an abandoned ranch that is being rebuilt. The sun gleamed at the nearby surroundings; the area was fields of sun-touched golden wheat everywhere Mark could see with the breeze of wind lightly moving them.

Two men emerged from the ranch looking at him, one approached him while the other stayed on the porch, hand always leveled on his hips. Grabbing the roof of the car, the stranger and him are eye to eye.

"Code?" He asked him

"Hidden in the den."

The man nodded, "Which group are you?"

"I'm running logistics, as discussed," Mark answered his query.

The man smiled, "Go to the barn at the back of the ranch and park it near the front gate, I'll get the rest of the group here."

Nodding along his directives Mark restarted the truck and drove it near the barn as the man said. Getting out of the truck he leans at the side of the truck, in view of the ranch backdoors. Looking around he noticed that the backyard was barren of any vehicles except for his making him raise his eyebrows at how the others arrived at the ranch.

The backdoor of the ranch opened and a group of 6 emerged led by someone James was extremely familiar with, he smiled and gave him a salute. "Lieutenant Alejandro, sir! It's good to see you here."

"Mark, it's good to see you too. How's life treating you?" He answers with a smile. A smile that Mark did not return. Noticing him not answering his question Alejandro chose to drop the subject. "You got our shipment?"

Mark signaled with his hand to follow him and the group, opening the back of the truck he smiled looking at their reaction with some even whistled.

"Look at all of these guns," Alejandro said with a smile.

Rows of m4s/Ar-15 pattern rifles, shotguns, sniper rifles, 10 m429s, 3 Gustav recoilless rifles, RPGs, and crates upon crates of ammunition.

"Are they unmarked?" Was the first thing Alejandro asked him.

"Besides the impossible ones," he implied the heavy weaponry. "Every bullet and part is unmarked; you don't need to worry."

"How much more can you send us?" A member of the group asked. She was skinny, and even by a glance, Mark could tell she was the IT girl of their militia. And by the way, she asked about shipments and making mental math; is also an unfortunate accountant.

"I've set up a network of gunsmiths around the area and nearby states, at best I could give you this kind of shipment every few months but with no guarantee of heavy weaponry always flowing through, most of those things I bought from a corrupt Afghani officer who's looking for a quick buck. Ammunition wouldn't be a problem, I just gotta remove the marking the casing was etched with. So that wouldn't be an issue and I could make a monthly shipment of ammunition alone."

The woman frowned, not liking what she was hearing. "That's not enough."

Mark almost gagged. 'Not he enough she said.' He shook his head. "What I just gave you is enough for a whole platoon to run a full-on guerilla warfare for 7 weeks straight without interruption. And you want more? How large are we planning this militia to grow? A thousand?"" The glasses-wearing woman smirked," Y-you're joking right?"

"Alejandro, could we afford this kind of shipment? I know I'm a civilian and military matters are something that I'm not good at, but I know that this kind of shipment would strain our budget. And I don't think raising organizational fees would be good for morale. And looking at the product he gave us I don't think it's enough." The woman frowned, not even answering Mark's question.

"It's fine, you don't have to worry about the money, I'll handle that as for the quantity of the shipments, it's fine most of our operations aren't full-scale conflict… Yet, we have time to prepare. Besides we need more personnel for our militia which for now is only larger than the average infantry section, granted most of us are special forces, but they aren't doing grunt work that we won't do."

"Damn straight," one of the guys howled, which made the other in the group chuckle.

"So don't worry too much Jessica," Alejandro smiled. With the other boys and girls standing behind him following suit.

The now-named Jessica grumbled and let out a tired sigh." Fine…" she rolled her eyes, "Still doesn't explain how you got the money for our budget though."

An: ‿

Jessica now faced Mark with a glare and hand hip pose. "I expect consistent shipment," she pointed at him sharply, almost touching his face." if there is even one faulty gun or ammo or even if you are late by a day I will doxx you! You got that big boy?!"

"U-uhm sure?" Satisfied with Mark's answer he left the backyard and waddled her way to the barn. "Uhm sir what just happened?" Mark asked his former Co, confused by the turn of events.

"Welp Mark, I think you just became our new Logistic officer."

Mark stood still for a second then the implications dawned on him.

"The paperwork"

"Ehm"

"the OSHA violation"

"Just suck it up, buddy."

"Oh fuck," Mark blurted.

"Oh fuck indeed."

………..