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.