El Mencho and R3: The family trail that links the Jalisco New Generation Cartel bosses in California

There are areas of Santa Ana, California, where English is a secondary language. The proliferation of taco stands, Western wear stores, money transfer businesses, and butcher’s shops reflects the deep influence of Mexican culture. In this atmosphere of nostalgia, surrounded by dozens of relatives who emigrated from Michoacán, Juan Carlos Valencia González, who is poised to become the new leader of the Jalisco New Generation Cartel (CJNG), took his first steps. On this side of the border, some don’t see him as a feared 41-year-old drug lord, but rather as a close relative about whom they speak in hushed tones.

Valencia González’s Californian roots are also those of the CJNG. Santa Ana, the birthplace of the drug trafficker, nicknamed “R3,” was one of the first U.S. territories where the cartel operated with impunity. From Mexico, his stepfather, Nemesio Oseguera Cervantes, “El Mencho,” expanded the organization on the very same California streets where Valencia sold heroin. R3’s maternal uncles, known as Los Cuinis, were essential to this expansion and became the CJNG’s financial arm. By 2015, the cartel already controlled a third of the lucrative drug distribution in Orange County, which borders Los Angeles. Furthermore, it had gained significant influence in other areas, including the border cities of San Ysidro, Riverside, Bakersfield, San Francisco, and Sacramento, according to a DEA report released that year.

California is home to several of El Mencho’s relatives, including his youngest daughter, Laisha Michelle, and one of his brothers. Los Cuinis also have close relatives scattered from south to north. The DEA has them identified and has not hesitated to contact them to comply with legal procedures. They all act with extreme caution, and, as far as is known, the U.S. government has not linked them to illicit activities.

After El Mencho’s death in February, his stepson’s rise to power seemed a natural one. Valencia González’s half-brother was extradited in 2020 and is now serving a life sentence in a high-security U.S. prison.

The new kingpin of the CJNG inherited an illicit enterprise that distributes drugs in at least 40 countries, possesses the largest arsenal in Mexico, and generates hundreds of millions of dollars annually, according to authorities. The $5 million reward offered by the State Department in 2021 cemented his rise to the top. His prosecution, based in a Washington, D.C. court for trafficking massive quantities of cocaine and methamphetamine, was the result of Operation Pinky and the Brain, spearheaded by the DEA’s Los Angeles office.

R3’s mother, Rosalinda González Valencia, and several of her siblings emigrated to California as teenagers. None of them resumed their studies in the United States. “I had to work from the age of 14... in the fields, in packing plants, cleaning houses, babysitting, and in restaurants, all in order to get ahead,” she wrote in a letter included in a court file.

Their first son, Juan Carlos, was born in a Santa Ana hospital on September 12, 1984. His biological father is Armando Valencia Cornelio, who went from being an avocado farmer to one of the founders of the Milenio Cartel, the predecessor of the CJNG. The relationship was short-lived. Two years later, in 1986, Rosalinda gave birth in San Francisco to a daughter with her new partner, El Mencho: Jessica Johanna Oseguera González. In the same city, Rubén and Laisha Michelle were later born. El Mencho was then a small-time drug dealer, arrested by authorities twice, in 1986 and 1989. He was deported after serving his second sentence. His wife and children returned with him to Mexico.

The bankrupt brother

A large family portrait hangs in the living room of a two-story house in San Jacinto, 60 miles east of Los Angeles. In the center of the portrait is a man wearing a hat who resembles El Mencho. It is his older brother, Marín Oseguera Cervantes. Their paths diverged, but they never completely separated. Marín briefly housed his nieces, Jessica Johanna and Laisha Michelle. The house was used in February 2020 as collateral in a failed attempt to free Jessica from prosecution.

Jessica Johanna frequently visited her aunt and uncle and used Marín’s address when applying for a U.S. passport and driver’s license in California. The young woman was facing serious problems. Federal agents had arrested her in a Washington, D.C., court, where she had gone to attend a hearing for her brother, Rubén. She was charged with managing six companies sanctioned for laundering money for the CJNG. Among the businesses were a tequila brand about to launch internationally and a chain of Japanese restaurants with locations in Jalisco.

Marín Oseguera’s home, protected by several security cameras, has five bedrooms, four bathrooms, and a total area of ​​3,100 square feet. It was built in 2005 and is valued at around $547,000, according to Zillow. Things weren’t always easy for El Mencho’s brother. In June 2013, he had only $38 in his pocket and $117,000 in debt, spread across 13 credit cards, loans to finance the purchase of two cars, and three unpaid medical bills, according to a bankruptcy filing he and his wife, Azucena Oseguera, submitted to court. Their income was limited: he worked installing granite countertops in kitchens, and she worked as a babysitter. Both were paid in cash. At that time, they lived in a house in Perris, in Riverside County, with a monthly rent of $1,600. The couple reported an income of $38,000 in 2012, low given the state’s extremely high cost of living.

Mencho’s brother arrived in California when he was 15 years old. His wife, Azucena, stated in a brief conversation with this newspaper in late 2024, at the entrance to their home, that Marín had no connection whatsoever with the man who was then one of the most-wanted drug traffickers in the world. She emphasized that her husband kept a low profile and earned an honest living. “He’s very different from his brother… We do know his nieces; they used to come here, they lived here, but we haven’t had contact with them in a long time for personal reasons,” she declared. “You can’t speak ill of your family,” she stressed. EL PAÍS visited Marín Oseguera’s house again after El Mencho’s death, but no one answered the door.

A couple of anecdotes about Jessica Johanna in California were recounted by Azucena Oseguera in a letter to a judge. The first was about when her niece traveled to Los Angeles aged 15 to buy clothes to sell in Mexico. The second involved preparing food while visiting her uncle Marín. “She would have the food ready when we got home from work,” she wrote.

In early 2015, three federal agents, including one from the DEA, arrived at the residence for the first time as part of the criminal case against Jessica Johanna. El Mencho’s sister-in-law received them and, after they showed her a photo of the drug lord, she confirmed that they were indeed her relatives. Marín was not home. The following day, he called the investigators and arranged to meet them at a coffee shop. They discussed the Treasury sanctions against his niece’s businesses, and he asked them if he would be committing a crime by paying for the legal defense of his sister-in-law Rosalinda’s brother, Abigael González Valencia, “El Cuini,” who was then imprisoned in Mexico.

“The OFAC (Office of Foreign Assets Control) investigator answered Marín’s questions and asked him to explain the OFAC ban to any of his relatives who were U.S. citizens. Marín said he would do so,” according to a court document describing that meeting.

During that time, with the same objective, the three federal agents also visited El Cuini’s daughter, Marlyn González Lara, at her home in Orange County; and the drug lord’s brother, José María González Valencia, who was not at his residence in Santa Ana nor at a nearby racetrack, but was later located at a ranch in Hemet (near Marín Oseguera’s residence). According to the case file, the government also contacted other relatives of the drug trafficker who lived in California: his other children, Jasmine and Alexis González Lara; and his sister, Berenisse González Valencia. El Cuini was extradited in August and is now negotiating a plea deal.

Azucena Oseguera declared in that 2024 conversation, from behind the front door of her house: “We communicate with everyone who lives here.” But she insisted several times that they were not involved in organized crime. “We all work… We live a life where we don’t want publicity,” she said.

— It must be difficult being related to El Mencho.

— Yes, I think so. But we’re really cut off from everything.

Fake names and a tequila front

Laisha Michelle, Mencho’s youngest daughter, moved out after living with her uncle, Marín. This came after her partner, Cristian Fernando Gutiérrez Ochoa, identified as a high-ranking CJNG operative, faked his own death with the help of his father-in-law. His plan was to cross the border and, under a false identity, start a secret life with Laisha Michelle. The couple settled in a luxurious two-story house, valued at $1.2 million, in the heart of a gated community in Riverside. It was acquired through a financial scheme that used Pasión Azul, a tequila company financed by the cartel, as a front, according to the U.S. Attorney’s Office.

Mencho’s son-in-law used a false name, Luis Miguel Martínez, and tried to obtain a California driver’s license under it. He drove a high-end car, which he used to evade the narcotics officers who were spying on him. His run ended in November 2024 when he was arrested. A search of his home yielded more than $2 million in cash, jewelry, and watches.

During intelligence operations, DEA agents discovered that Laisha Michelle ran a Mexican-style café called El Rincón La Chulis, located in a small shopping plaza in Perris, not far from her home. Next door is a taco stand, and next to it, a hair salon. It’s a small, modest business compared to the Japanese restaurants her older sister owned in Guadalajara. Laisha’s menu features sandwiches, crepes, and chilaquiles. A phrase displayed inside the café reads: “Life is short, eat a torta.”

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