A slave market

The women are escorted off the truck. By this time, the sun has set and shadows have descended over the countryside. They are disoriented by the unusual location. Dark faces leer at them as they are dragged away from the truck.

Bright lights shine down and illuminate a large open air market area. The soldiers shove the women along one dirt path until they arrive at a crude wooden pen.

"Sir, sir?" Brooke pleads hopefully. "There is some misunderstanding! I am Brooke van der Wyk! I'm Miss South Africa!"

"Yes, we know!" one laughs as she is pushed into the pen. Debbie and the French women follow. The men lock the gate and leave.

The girls stand together in the pen and observe the scene. The marketplace around them contains many colorful characters: men in military uniforms, Africans in traditional nomadic garb, Arabs in robes, and others.

"What is this?" Debbie asks apprehensively.

The Frenchwomen seem sullen. "It is a slave market," Julia replies dejectedly. "We are being sold into slavery."

Brooke smiles. "That's not possible. I'm a beauty queen. I'm no slave."

But as passing men leer into their cages, Debbie begins to fear for the worst.