Goren's arms were crossed against his chest, and his head rested lightly on the glass. Eames was to his right, head in one hand, with Deakins reclined against the opposite wall and Carver looking through from behind Goren's shoulder.
On the inside of the interrogation room, one armed guard blocked the door while another stood in front of the glass. The second would glance back at the hidden detectives every so often, clearly not comfortable with being on the inside.
The expression Eames wore was one of desperation, one approaching misery. She'd lost old friends thanks to the colorful, greasy man handcuffed in that cold, stark room. Goren's face was one of morbid curiosity and concentration, one of a man doing his best to prepare himself for an experience that in the end was sure to be anything but pleasant.
Carver let out a sigh, breaking the silence.
Goren nodded, not changing his expression. The man inside of the room seemed to be looking right at him. Goren narrowed his eyes, trying to see if the man inside was smiling, or...
"Now or never, detectives."
Goren didn't move, instead waiting for Eames. After a few moments she seemed ready. Eames opened the door wide, leaving quickly and wordlessly as she took the turn towards the interrogation room.
Goren started out with his arms still crossed then paused, moving a hand up to rest on the door. He turned around to face his superiors, now appearing more than a little concerned.
"How many bodies were found, again?"
Carver took off his glasses, studying the lenses. "Reports are hazy, and while we know there is still a slim possibility that some of the missing are still alive, ah...
He made eye contact with Goren. "The body count is easily in the dozens."
"And, uh, just how many were cops?"
Carver didn't answer.