Regrouping wasn't on Simms' mind at all. He had stormed out long enough to grab two things: the mace that had been provided for him, and the mask that would keep him from being effected by it in such a confined space. He stood in front of the cell for a moment with the gas mask on, liking the chance to give them a warning, while also looking fucking intimidating. Masks were always creepy. A riot shield would have been great right then.
He moved quick, throwing open the door without removing the key ring from his belt, and spraying the mace across the cell in a sweeping motion, but not pointing it directly at Chase. Instead, he pointed it up at poor Noah, who had been staying out of trouble since the fighting, but needed to be taken care of anyway. It was less about him being in on the plan, and more about him being a potential threat once he had charged in, but the fact that he had been in on it and was now dealing with the sting of the mace sure didn't bother Simms. And at this distance, it was sure to be getting to Chase, too.
The one sweep was enough, and he quickly shoved the mace into his empty pocket before he came at Chase. He grabbed for his throat with his left hand, forcing him back towards a wall while he was already throwing punches at the guy's face, relentlessly.