Why does Mike Toreno even hire CJ?

Later in the game, Mike Toreno demands that CJ— a man whose most advanced piloting experience probably involved jumping off a BMX ramp—infiltrate a heavily guarded aircraft carrier, where he proceeds to commit multiple acts of high treason. He hijacks a multi-million-dollar military fighter jet, takes off from a runway he has no business being on, and embarks on a high-stakes mission to annihilate enemy spy ships. Oh, but wait! Before he even gets to the ships, the U.S. government scrambles three other fighter jets to shoot him down. Naturally, CJ—who, let me remind you, was literally just robbing liquor stores like two weeks ago—manages to dogfight and outmaneuver trained military pilots, blowing their jets out of the sky with pinpoint precision. Because sure, why not?

But the cherry on this batshit sundae is who sends him on this mission. It’s none other than Mike Toreno, a shadowy, deep-state government agent with ties to the intelligence community. Instead of, you know, assigning an elite special forces team or literally anyone with actual aviation experience, Toreno takes one look at CJ—a guy who regularly crashes into light poles while trying to make a left turn—and thinks:

'Yeah. This is the man I want piloting advanced military aircraft. Not a trained soldier, not a seasoned pilot—this gangbanger from Grove Street is my guy.'

It’s genuinely astounding. This isn’t even a Metal Gear Solid game, where you expect tactical espionage nonsense. CJ isn’t Solid Snake; he’s not even Liquid Snake. He’s just a dude from the hood who somehow keeps getting recruited for high-level government black ops like he’s some kind of freelance James Bond.

And yet, for all his elite military accomplishments, the moment you put CJ back in a normal car, he somehow cannot drive down a single city block without wrapping the vehicle around a lamppost. Incredible.