Andras Fort Claymore

Homes protected with blood

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Copyright © Fort András

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ISBN EPUB: 978-963-634-055-1

Ágenda Kiadó

Debrecen

2025

Introduction, prologue

This writing is a society-political fiction. The people in it are fictional personality. The events are fictional events. If someone thinks to discover any similarities in relation to real events or existing persons, - it can only be a coincidence...

Quotes 1.

…”But that's just the way it goes in this country; A murderer is not a murderer, but he who resists; That will be the killer…”

Quotes 2.

... "But none of the volunteers ran. They preferred to die, but they didn't run and didn’t surrender.

There were many victims here, yes. This is always the case when people start protecting their homes, even at the cost of their own blood.

But the attackers had even more serious losses. We don't know how much, but we suspected that it was at least three times as much as the volunteers..."

Quotes 3.

"POOR LIVES MATTER!" "Poor lives also matter... this became the motto of the 'People's Militia'."

Quotes 4.

…”It was the Waterloo of the bailiffs. The first. And this was followed by the rest, until the complete collapse. This losing battle was the first nail in the coffin of the Hungarian Court Bailiffs' Private Limited Company…

***

HARD ACTIONS BY THE RADICAL HOME DEFENDERS IN THE YEARS BEFORE THE COLLAPSE

Narratives and short stories about real people and families - which actually happened or should have happened. They are also connected to the series of novels entitled THE APOCALYPSE OF NATIONS, but can also be read on their own.

1.

WHEN THERE WILL A BATTLE AT AN EVICTION

It takes place in Budapest, Hungary, at the beginning of summer, on June 10. In the 4th year of the 'New Era', after the Fifth Great Mutant Pandemic...

Sir Claymore's report:

Árpádföld, Tormás utca 10, June 10. 8:30 a.m. in the morning. A family with 4 children is about to be evicted here today, Independent Bailiff Géza Szamosvölgyi.

Of course, a foreign currency loan that became unpayable (the total debt quadrupled with monthly installments and increased to an unrealistic level with interest; 10 million became 40 million), escalated to the point that the executor secretly (SECRETLY!) auctioned the house off the over family's head.

In a play-through action called an internet auction, only one buyer participated. Who, of course, acquired the house, which was worth 50 million, for just HUF 30 million, at a deeply discounted price. Of this, only 20 million was officially recorded, as the executor also received 10 million, according to a secret agreement concluded with the housing developer.

But before we look at the scene, where everyone is already preparing for battle in the strict sense of the word, just like in the war, - but let's stop for a word!

Let's take our eyes off the bailiff and his assistants and the policemen helping them - and the determined family standing up to them, and the volunteers helping the family...

And let's ask the question; I wonder if; how did you manage to get this unpayable debt together? We can find the answer to this in the appendix, end of novel.

(Note: Root causes of this bloody eviction, in appendix, end of the novel.)

***

So today they want to eviction the Kovács family with 4 children, and this now presents them with a literally unsolvable problem;

After being evicted, they will have nowhere to go from this evil trap set by the Devil's Trio; the bank, the executor and the apartment dealer set it up for the family, there was no way they could break it out.

Their children were also wanted by the guardianship authority, which was informed that the family was being put on the street by the executor and the new owner. Therefore, the Guardianship Authority would take the 4 children into state care, even by force.

The family could therefore choose between the humiliating and immediate violent annihilation (because in essence, their eviction and the taking of their children meant this) - or the resistance, which promises some hope, but is all the more glorious.

And they chose the latter. – But journalists, reporters and correspondents were invited there (that's how I got there too), as well as the crews of national TV channels and even the international media. European, American, Russian, Japanese and Chinese.

Saying:

„Let everyone in the world know how the diabolical triple mafia of the bankers, executors and apartmentneppers treats Hungarian families”!

So that's how I got there. I knew there would be a 'Fight' against eviction, with the help of the Volunteers.

And now they were waiting. And they were made.

According to my preliminary information: the house was a typical cube house with a tent roof built in the sixties, although it has a larger than average floor area of 100 square meters. The loan was taken out for its renovation and the installation of an attic. It almost worked out, but the house was no longer legally his. But of course, in order for this to happen, they must first be evicted from there. However, as things look now, it won't be that easy.

Because the Kovács' house and lot have now become a ready-made fortress. The 2-meter stone wall surrounding the yard was raised all around with sandbags. That's how it became a good 3 meters. The house itself was reinforced with sand-bags.

But for now, we could only see this from afar, because the police closed off the area. No one was allowed in, only residents of the area, who verified them-selves with their address card.

I parked behind the cars of Euronews and Fox News on the third street. After a short wait, the Deutsche Welle minibus turned up behind me. And in front, about 50 meters away, I saw the RT (Russia Today) broadcasting car. On top is the indispensable satellite dish.

I walked forward to the police cordon. Lines of blue-uniformed, yellow-jacketed cops blocked the street, as I noticed, on all sides. A few enthusiastic but non-violent home defenders faced them, there were about twenty of them. Boards were raised on which this was written in watercolor:

„STOP THE EVICTIONS!”

The police officers standing in the queue had blank expressions on their faces. They stared sullenly at the nervous protesters stomping in front of them, waving signs.

– Let us in! – they shouted. – Go home! Let the people live! Would you evict your mother too?

But they didn't go closer than two meters to the row wall. I was sure that since they could only get in by force, they wouldn't try.

I went back to the media parking lot. Everyone seemed at a loss. Then a young woman in her thirties suddenly appeared among the cars. It was nice; oval face, intelligent, brown wavy hair, black eyes, white skin, good shape. He smiled.

– I wish you all a good day! – Respect to the correspondents ladies and gentlemen! he said out loud. – I am Krisztina Kovács, one of the owners of this house, which they want to vacate today. My husband, Zoltán Kovács. He stayed inside with the children... And I came here to take you into the house!... So that you could report on the upcoming events from there. First hand from the front line.

I heard the reporters' interpreters behind me start to translate what the woman was saying. In English, for Euronews, Fox and Russia Today, and for a reporter from The Washington Post and the Daily Mail, which ran in the meantime. And in German to the employee of Deutsche Welle.

– But how do you imagine that? – I asked the woman. – Maybe because you ask, will the cops let us through the cordon, or is there another way?"

The woman nodded with a smile. He didn't even pick up on the sarcasm in my question.

– Of course there is another way. – Under the gardens. But only those who are nimble enough and can climb should come – he looked at me. – Because you have to climb. Up high.

Hearing this, some reporters laughed. They quickly began to discuss the new turn among themselves.

– So like in the war – said the Russian correspondent in English. „Even in war.”

– Yes, said the little woman, whose smile disappeared from her face. – This is already a war. „This is already war.”

There was silence. For a moment, each reporter looked at himself. „Are you sure you want this? Will he be able to make it through all that follows?”

„Or would you even be ready to die for the cause? That is, for his own cause; which is nothing more than how do you do a damn good report on this war that's going on right now?”

After all, according to the principles of the BBC, the reporter must run exactly where everyone is running away from. And every reporter thinks so. At least the better ones.

***

We lined up almost as one person behind the little lady, the correspondents of all 7 media.

From Fox News, the English section of Euronews, Deutsche Welle, The Washington Post, the Daily Mail, Russia Today and me from Nova Europa. We were already on our way under the gardens, when at the last moment we were joined by a reporter from the prestigious Polish newspaper Gazeta Wyborcza in a suit, as well as a cheeky, misogynist reporter from the Pesti Sztori bulvár newspaper.

This is how the 9 media came together to report on the eviction in Árpádföld, Tormás Street.

With half an eye, I still saw that the policemen forming the cordon were looking at us suspiciously as we started to walk into the litle forest.

The mentioned house stood on the side of a small hill, but we went in the opposite direction, down the hill. Krisztina led us to the bottom of the hill, where the plot of the neighboring house ended.

Here a fairly high and massive wire fence stood in our way. We discussed in English how we were going to climb over it and how we were going to lift the cameras over it?

But Krisztina solved this problem as well. A fence cut in advance with wire cutters led us to a gap where we didn't have to climb, but we did have to crawl. The hole was just big enough for a person to fit through, but of course only crawling on his stomach. Well, that's how the entire reporting company got under the fence. It was a nice sight. Especially the correspondent in a suit from Gazeta Wyborcza, whose nice white shirt instantly turned black and his suit was no longer a suit by the time he got through.

2.

PREPARATION FOR THE SIEGE

When we finally all crawled through that little hole under the fence, the company looked pretty ragged. Wet earth rained on everyone, dry branches fell on us, but no one cared. Even the polish guy didn't care. He bore his fate with a heroic, determined face, according to which; his suit was ruined, but because of a presumably interesting report. The Russians dressed straight for the field. They were wearing military training clothes and boots. The others were wearing jeans, including me.

They were all the more worried about their camera, because it also got muddy when they pushed it through the hole.

And we started up the slippery, muddy, clay path. Cameras were raised high, shoes were slipping, and sometimes a curse was thrown, everyone in their own language. At that point, Krisztina also said to be quieter, so that the police wouldn't hear that we were breaking up in the back.

We passed about 50 meters past the impressively large house on the neigh-boring lot, we went further up the hill, all the way to the border of Krisztiná's lot. There was no cordon of any kind, nor could it be, as it was private land on both sides.

Right there, the Krisztinás built a high stone wall as a fence, which we wouldn't really have been able to get through if they hadn't pushed a ladder down in front of us from above. (Later it turned out that the entire plot was surrounded by such a stone wall.) They lowered a long old wooden ladder in front of us, the kind that the peasants used to pick fruit before.

And we headed up. The cameramen were in serious trouble because of the heavy and bulky equipment. The cameraman pulled the camera up, the reporter pushed it, and they put it over the top of the wall, to the other side. But up there, the other side wasn't that tall, maybe a meter and a half.

It was like a parapet on the castle wall, on the side of the hill. So when we got there, we literally found ourselves inside a besieged castle. Because this 3-room, living-room house was now like a besieged castle. A stone wall all around, two meters + one meter of sandbag parapet in front of which height, and at the back on the side facing the other plot only half a meter, but on the other side due to the steep hillside, it is about 5 meters. This is where we came in first, all the reporters.

Garden in front, garden in back, the house can be walked around completely. Downstairs on the ground floor there was a hall, to the right a larger kitchen, to the left the large living room, from which opened a smaller room, and the bathroom and toilet. Upstairs there were two small bedrooms, plus a small shower and toilet.

As I already mentioned; The house was a typical cube house with a tent roof built in the sixties, although it has a larger than average floor area of 100 square meters. A 10 million foreign currency loan was taken out to renovate it and build an attic.

This is how the house was renovated and enlarged with 40 square meters of living space, and its value was about HUF 50 million.

A few years after taking out the loan, the family already paid back 7 million of the 10 million loan taken out, but due to the credit crisis that broke out, the monthly installment suddenly jumped to four times, which they could no longer pay. Thus, the loan fell through in half a year, but their debt was not 3 million, >> but 33 million! - This is how compound interest and punitive interest pushed up the total debt.

This is how the 10 million loan turned into a total 40 million failed loan monster, - the cover of which was the family's renovated house, which, as mentioned; It was worth 50 million.

So the house was no longer legally his. But it belongs to a foreign new owner, an apartment nepper, who did not acquire the property by any fraud. But now he definitely wanted to take possession of the house, which he had mistakenly lulled himself into believing was his. And he can enforce this ownership.

But of course, in order for this to happen, the family must first be evicted from there. And in this case, it looked like it wasn't going to be that easy. Because it is obvious that the family and the volunteers helping them are determined to protect the house. Even the gate was walled up. Top of the wall, the volunteers patrolled. (I will explain the protective works in detail later.)

Seven people originally lived in the house; the parents; Zoltán Kovács and Krisztina Kovács, and four children. And the grandmother.

But of course they would not be enough to be able to protect the house from the bailiff and and his assistans. And from the police, who are also paid by the bailiff.

Because the bailiff is paying the cops for this forced eviction, everyone already knew that. Not a little. So they weren't police anymore, they were mercenaries. Mercenaries of the 3rd Hyena Mafia (Banks, bailiffs, real estate scammers).

There were about 50 besiegers in total. Two bailiffs, two assistants, four hardened bodyguards, and 42 policemen. Of these, 22 are district cops in yellow vests, and 20 commandos in helmets, body armor and shields. Of course, they received the lion's share of the action money from the executors.

There were only 45 defenders. The two young parents in their 30s, the 4 children, and the grandmother, were not a significant force. Although Krisztina tried very hard to control and coordinate the defense of the fortress, and it seemed that sooner or later she would succeed.

The considerable defense force was the volunteers. All 38 of them. They were recruited from the Home Protection Groups in Hungary, who chose as their voluntary task not to allow anyone to be evicted.

The determined 20 women and 18 men came from all over the country; From Baja, Szekszárd, Érd and Sárvár. And about Budapest, of course. And women wanted to fight just as much as men. In fact. Maybe even more.

I thought about that for a moment. How can the problem be that big in this country? Because, when at first glance the women look completely average; mothers, grandmothers, all of a sudden they start behaving like Amazons, that's already a telling sign of some huge social problem. Or some desperate war.

I didn't know then that every woman here has her own tragic story about evictions. And they don't want the tragedy that happened to them to happen to others.

But it seemed that so many defenders were terribly few against the greater number of besiegers. Because they were almost bustling out on the street and were coming closer and closer to the wall.

First, Krisztina led us around the wall and showed us the defenses. It slowly became clear that she was leading the defense while her husband was busy with the children inside the living room of the house. Grandma was just cooking for all 45 people. After all, „You can't fight when you're hungry!” – he said.

***

Well, a few words about defenses;

On the border of the lot, on the street front, there was a two-meter stone wall, which was raised with sandbags, so it became three meters. The top of the wall was wide enough to hold the sacks. In the inner side of the wall, the volunteers built a scaffolding, on which you could walk along the entire length of the wall. If you went up to the scaffolding, the top of the wall raised with sandbags was up to your waist, roughly in the form of the defense walk on the bastions in medieval castles.

The stand was made of pallets and wooden crates, and when Krisztina led us reporters up there, the whole thing creaked and creaked. as are wooden buildings in general.

The part facing the street was the front line. We could see far into the street. Below us swarmed the army of the attackers; The armored commandos, the yellow-vest district cops, and like the gorillas looking, bailiffs assistans, and the two haughty bailiffs.

They looked at us grumpily. It was obvious from the enforcement officers that they really didn't like the fact that there were cameras on the wall, and who knows how many inside. If only they knew whose cameras these were.

They could see that they were troubled, because it looked like this siege would not be as easy as all the previous evictions.

„After all, these crazy Home Guards even walled up the gate”. On top of the wall, was also patrolled by a guards.

***

So we were up on the wall and with the cameras we started to take what was happening in the inner courtyard, up here on the wall and outside on the street.

The volunteer guards smiled and waved at us. But, out side, on the street, the supposedly legitimate people out there, as I mentioned, were very unhappy with us. One of the knackered hold guy, he might have been one of the bailiff's bodyguard, openly showed his distaste for us. He moved his hand horizontally in front of his throat, indicating; will cut our throats.

***

So they looked up at us a lot, the whole baggage preparing for the siege. Did you see on their faces that they didn't really understand how we got there? How did we even get in when the surrounding streets were closed?

Now that's it!

3.

LOVED PACKAGES

Now that's it. Even the gate was bricked up. Despite this, the executors went there and tried the brick dust doorknob. The stone wall behind the grate was clearly visible, but they were just trying the doorknob to see if it would open. (Brainy guys). After all, they wouldn't have achieved anything even if they managed to break the lock.