Jack makes it to his car before Robby can get out a location, a combination of adrenaline shooting through him, and the grateful proximity of the handicapped spot in the ambulance bay that might as well have his name plastered on it.
"Belvidere." He's not familiar with the area, but he taps the name into his car's navigation, and lets out a disgruntled sound at the result: 8 hours, 12 minutes. He zooms in closer to the destination, notes something particular on the map, and sets his own phone on speaker as he uses the location sent to check the exact distance from the airport. Then, he books a one way ticket to Chicago.
Jack sets his phone down, and starts his car.
"I can get to you in about three and a half hours." He says. "But I need to be on a plane for two of those hours." Jack pulls out of the parking lot, and drives faster than what is legally permitted toward the airport.
"Don't apologize. I could use a vacation. What d'ya think? Make a stop at the Bean on the way home?"
Jack doesn't press him for actual responses. He just talks, and talks, filling the silence of his 20-something minute drive to the airport.
"And Shen spilled his coffee all over the floor within ten minutes of shift starting. I thought he was about to start crying. Ellis felt bad enough that she ordered him a new one."
It's only when he pulls his car into the weekly parking lot at the airport that he goes quiet, grabbing his backpack, pulling several knives, scalpels, and other not-safe-for-plane items from the pockets. Eventually, he takes his phone off speaker, and presses it to his ear once more.
"You still with me?" Jack half-jogs toward the airport. "Look, you're at a rest stop, right? Get somethin' to eat. And drink, sit inside if you're feelin' warm. Park the bike somewhere, we can pick it up after we both get some sleep. I'll keep ya on the line 'til I board, but then I'll text you 'til I land. I'll pay the stupid overpriced fee for onboard wifi and everything."