Carried like a fresh kill, Marlowe lets himself hang limply in their grasp, careful not to give them a reason to fire and attempting to force them to use every effort to keep him aloft.  This compound was looking worse and worse, and as object-sensory perception informs him that he's no longer in open air, he opens his eyes, memorizing turns.  He counts people, weapons, doors... he looks for fire alarms, shut of switches, power junctions... he knows he's beyond over his head now, and is whirling his thoughts through every possible course of action.