He might remember that name. Maybe.

One eyebrow goes up, not that he's exactly impressed, but.

"Make for the desert. I'll keep an eye on you from the air. If you make it far enough... well, I'll be sure to let you know when to stop."

He steps back and, following some fancy juggling combined with transformation, snaps up the armful of tanks into his cockpit and jets off. She either makes it to the desert or she doesn't, he's not about to play escort for her.