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~Batman actor, Christian Bale, Neeson, & Iiam a pick for "Forty Days to Armageddon"~
Cogerson loves to talk about movies on his HUB site and you can find over sixty articles devoted to films and actors. Is that really him in the photo? He looks like a fun guy to me! I highly recommend it. Here is a list of actors he envisions starring in “Forty dasy to Armageddon.” The thought of these actors starring in the movie is mindboggling and makes one realize how the actors can shape the final movie.
The novel is in the process of being reviewed and marketed and no movie deals are yet in the making. Take a look at Cogerson’s list and then send your own suggestions. Who should play Watchdogg? Who should play the president and the Admiral (Somali pirate leader)? I will add the pictures of the candidates as the results come in so this will all be updated as needed. Here are Cogerson’s picks and then some descriptions from the novel.
1. Deshano:.(Director of the CIA ) Paul Giamatti.a great actor and good in any role.
2. Bumgardner: (Secretary of Defense) Paul Guilfoyle plays the leader of the CSI team.
3. Costanzo: ( National Security Advisor) Robert Duvall.
4. Prottenger (The vice president) Dennis Haysbert—character actor...famous for “24” where he played the president.
5. Watchdogg.: I love Tom Hanks, but he is getting too old and he is not very convincing as an action hero, so I say, Christian Bale—minus the Wales accent of course.
6. Carol Turner: ( Watchdogg’s gal ) Marion Cotillard. She is an Oscar winner, in plenty of box office smashes and of course super sexy.
7. Landenberger: Jeff Bridges. He played the president in “The Contender” and he was very good in that movie.
Descriptions of main characters:
· Admiral Mustafa Mahdi Leader of the Somalia Marines
Always his face was etched with the scars of the past. He seemed frozen with a permanent scowl; “perhaps born with it,” said anyone who had ever met him. He had a way of making anyone near him uncomfortable. Most were intimidated merely to be in close proximity. To be near him for any length of time was to toy with terror. It would creep over you like some blood sucking demon lurking in the shadows of hell creeping out of a Dali landscape. All of this was no act. Something evil burned within.
He was tall and slim like most Bantu and was dressed in a tailor-made black suit open at the collar. From behind the Ray-Ban Warrior’s he surveyed the familiar brownish blue water that stretched endlessly. His black-as-coal hair rippled like a cresting wave as the sea breezes caressed his body. The face was covered in Bantu fashion with a veil made of white muslin wrapped round a half dozen times. Gold jewelry hung from his neck. Ruby and diamond rings adorned his fingers.
In that the description appears in the first chapter, I cannot reprint it here. In essence, Watchdogg is around forty years old, carries a revolver, and hop scotches around the world meeting with political leaders whenever the president is unavailable. With his influence upon the president and his relationship with world leaders, he becomes the most influential man on the planet.
“General, there is a Red Cross worker—shall I send her away?”
“No, send her in. She would not be here if it was not important.”
Before him stood a petite American modestly dressed in the red and white Red Cross uniform, the hair tucked neatly under her nurse’s hat. Her relaxed, almost breezy demeanor contrasted with his bearish curt military manner. She wore no makeup; she was a head turner—large blue-green eyes, tanned skin and a smile that reminded him of his homeland.
“You are American. You have a Russian air about you.”
“I am 1/8 Russian on my mother’s side.”
He smiled. “What is your name?"
“Carol, Carol Turner.”
“What can I do for you?”
“We need several more trucks to move the injured—”
He snapped his fingers and a lieutenant stood at attention. “See that she gets the trucks immediately.”
“Yes General—right away sir.”
“You could have called this in ….”
Her eyes sparkled. “I wanted to the see the man who is responsible ….” Her voice choked with emotion. “Bless you General Dimochka. You are a saint and your country is doing a wonderful thing here.” A tear trickled down her cheek. “I simply had to see for myself. Thank you for allowing me to meet you.”
“You may visit with me anytime you wish. I am a busy person; however there will always be time for Carol Turner.” He said “Carol Turner” as though it was of special significance. “Do you have a phone with you?”
He made a gesture and she pulled a BlackBerry from her pocket and handed it to him.
He punched in a number. “There it is. That will reach my staff." He handed her a military phone. "This phone you will use to call me directly. Use the other only if I do not answer. It is encrypted. We are comrades forever.”
“I will take you up on that.” She removed her hat and silky hair spilled across her shoulders. “Are you sure?”
“Comrades forever—some things are meant to be.” His face lit up and a broad smile crossed his face. “There are forces beyond our comprehension that have brought us to this moment. A Russian General and a Red Cross worker meet in a forgotten nation on the plains of Somalia. Both with one common goal—what else could it be?”
“Goal?” She fit the hat back onto her head, fiddled with some pins and tucked in her hair.
“To bring about peace—to put an end to human suffering. I do it with my armies, you do it with healing. One without the other is…is….”
“Incomplete.” The trucks had arrived, a horn was honking. She turned and jumped aboard then disappeared down the steaming tarmac.
She looks like my dear Aleksandra. Had he been one step closer to the curb he could have pulled his daughter from the passing truck on that fateful day that forever etched into his memory. Bitterness filled his heart for a decade and he cursed God each morning for his torment. He felt that God had abandoned him and his reason for living had left him. It was years before he quit the morning ritual of pulling a Luger from the drawer and placing it to his temple and cocking the hammer. He would try to find a reason to live for one more day and would return the pistol until the next time.
God has brought her to me. For the first time in years he was happy to be alive.
“Kismet—some things are meant to be,” he muttered and went back to his work.
“Green Dog III—we have some hostiles approaching."
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