Despite the bullets not being well placed, the gun shot wounds knocked the thing off balance.  Robin put one of his huge boots to the center of its chest, knocking the tottering thing to the ground, he pulled the Desert Eagle out, pointed it right at its head and pulled the trigger.  A deafening shot rang out, the .50 calliber significantly louder than the 9mm Tara was using.  The motions were well practiced and required next to no thought to perform.  He paused after, listening for any more sounds, his eyes scanning for any additional movement.