Everything vanished before Clays eyes in a bright flash of burning light. He didn’t know where it was coming from but it was reflected and magnified by the itching smoke that was suddenly filling his lungs and clawing at his face. 
With involuntary tears poring down his face, and a deafening sound thundering in his ears, he fought with all his will against his basic instincts and urges to run outside. 

He stumbled over tables and chairs as he blindly staggered around the room coughing and gasping for air. He had lost nearly all of each of his senses except for one. His keen sense of smell.
While the gas did disorientate him, Clay could still make the direction of his friends and source the location of the canisters by smell. 

Practically collapsing onto the nearest one, he fought with it for a short time before accepting that he couldn’t break or remove it from the ground. With it having somehow glued itself to the floor. Instead, without hesitation, Clay whipped off his jacket and bound the leather fabric tightly around the canister smothering it, dulling the light and sound.

He got lucky with the second one. It had secured itself to a rug. It was short work for Clay to roll it up and send it out a window. 

There was still easily another 5 canisters in just this room alone. And with the gas slowly thinning, the soldiers outside were growing impatient and began sending scouting drones in from various windows.